


Gospel of the Lost Gods

by ManMagnificent



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2020-05-02 14:22:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 128,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19200661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManMagnificent/pseuds/ManMagnificent
Summary: While on a mission against an unknown tinker, the Chicago Wards are accidentally shunted into Westeros. Now they have to deal with the politics of Westeros as they bide their time for rescue or charting their own way back home.





	1. Chapter 1

Weaver

 

The road to Oldstones was so disused that there technically was no road, no patch of dirt that had been laid flat by the footfall of people or horses, or the wheels of carriages. There was only grass and beneath that loose earth or jutting rock, which made the trip perilous.

To my left were more trees than I was used to, running the gamut in shapes: some with thick trunks, branches that splayed like long limbs, drooping down towards the ground, with leaves shooting out at the end; and others taller and thinner, their branches thin and long, bright green leaves bursting out wherever they could.

To my right was the Blue Fork, a wide river whose current was fast this low down the hill; the bank of the river was rocky and slick with water, the portion of road I was moving through having a short drop before reaching the bottom.

I pulled the reins of my donkeys, angling them away from the Blue Fork and paying attention to the topography provided by my bugs. They carted a carriage _heavy_ with supplies, moving on rickety wooden wheels and I didn’t want to take the chance of rocks giving way and me falling into the Fork.

I’d been travelling for three-days, a trip that had seen me lose two of my dozen chickens to travel, and the worry that the pregnant goat might become sick since we didn’t stop that much and they didn’t have time to forage. But at least I could see the walls of Oldstones on the hilltop, see the ancient path that had been cleared of trees, forcing people to wind around the hill two times before they reached the old castle.

Another day trip before I reached the others.

I whipped the reins and the donkeys moved faster, not a run because that would tire them out quickly, but a strut. The earth was sloped now as we climbed, still more gentle than going directly up the hill.

Almost a month now and things were starting to settle, the initial panic lessening. We’d been pushed into a world that wasn’t our own, one that was thousands of years behind Earth Bet, and the Protectorate hadn’t found us yet. There were still those that had hope we’d be found, that the greatest tinker minds would cobble something together to find and pull us out of this world, but with the state we’d left things on Earth Bet, it was uncertain if they’d find the time.

Capes were leaving the Protectorate in droves, everyone looking over their shoulder thinking about who had bought their powers and the Endbringer attacks were starting to be more common.

Whether we liked it or not, we had no choice but to settle, make this as comfortable as we could as we searched for a way out or hoped that everything worked out on its own.

A web stretching between trees snapped and I devoted a bit of my attention in that direction, moving fat bugs to scan my range. Everett was leader and he’d told us to hide our abilities as much as we could, Star Trek rules in the face of a world that wasn’t tech savvy yet, so I was making an effort to be as discrete as I could.

My bugs landed on the first of them and through that I quickly got a sense of the others. Half a dozen men on horses, none wearing armour which meant they weren’t knights, but they had weapons: swords being the most prominent and knives of varying lengths, and even two who had bows and arrows.

Raiders, no doubt, criminals who’d heard I was travelling alone and come after me for a quick buck.

I pulled the reins of my donkeys, angling them to a cluster of trees close to the water and tying the reins. I moved to the back to check over my wares: the potatoes, cabbages, carrots and onions were still alright, though I could see one of the goats poking its head out of its cage trying to nibble at it; my chickens were in their cage, clustered together and otherwise docile; and a bit of my salt had spilt which was a tragedy with how expensive that stuff could be.

I took a breath and I was hit by how _clean_ the air was. It was hot and humid, with an earthy smell rising up from ground and the bubbling of the river as it ran downstream. I felt crabs on the river bank, finding unlucky snails and breaking into their shells. 

From birth I’d been a city girl, with no inclination for camping. When I’d watched it on TV or heard people talk about it, I hadn’t really understood. Sleeping on the ground, being bitten by bugs and being afraid that you’d catch yourself on the wrong end of bears or coyotes. But I could see it now. There was something entrancing about _this,_ the disconnect from the bustle of city, slowing down for a moment.

The raiders were closer and the first of the bugs carrying spiders and lines of silk arrived, starting their work. I started binding loops around their weapons, using bugs to feel at their belts to see if I could loosen any of them. For most, the belts were cheap and for those I loosened, forming threads that led nowhere, waiting to be attached.

Everett wouldn’t like this, he would think it a return to _Skitter,_ but these were desperate times.

They stopped, one of them getting off their horse and looking for tracks. When they found them, they were off again, moving quickly after me but cutting through the trees where I’d kept near the Blue Fork. I waited until I could see movement down the hill, watching the half a dozen horses as they ran through the trees before I acted.

I connected threads to trees and undid belts: Weapons flew free, crashing into the ground. Threads around arms went taut and people were pulled to the side, sent careening off their horses. There were shouts and cries of confusion, talks of spirits and the work of demons.

“… _cravens,”_ the man in the lead said. He had the best belt, the better clothes by the bugs I had moving through them and he was straight backed. “Get off your asses and let’s move. It’s only _one—”_

 **“Leave,”** my bugs whispered and the man stopped. The horses, most of which had stopped, whinnied, rising up on two legs and then tromping in discomfort.

The man in the lead looked around, keeping the reins of his horse tight in hand and controlling it, keeping it from panicking.

 **“Leave,”** I said again and more than one horse bolted, leaving its rider shouting after it.

“Pick up your swords and let’s go,” the leader said.

“My horse,” a man said. He hadn’t managed to quickly catch his.

“Chase it if you want,” the man said, his tone curt. “But we’ll leave you here to fend for yourself. He kicked his horse at either side, starting to get it to move when a thread around his sword went taut. “…fuck,” I heard him mutter.

Bugs were crawling over other weapons, keeping their owners from taking them.

“Leave your weapons,” the leader said, looking around. He pulled his sword free from its holster and threw it onto the ground. “Spirit!” he said. “I apologise for our intrusion on your land and bid you grant us leave.”

 **“Leave,”** I said again and the men didn’t question it, taking off.

I waited until they were a good distance away before I started the trek on foot, going over to the patch of wood they’d left their weapons and scavenging them. I felt a pack of wolves as they started to move towards my donkeys, a pack over a dozen large. I formed large swarms around them. At first the wolves wanted to push through it, but some bites later they turned away.

I got back to my donkeys and started moving up the hill again.

⸸

“You robbed people again, didn’t you?” said Olivia and she had an easy smile. She was a beautiful girl, her skin pale which made the freckles on her cheeks and her dark brown eyes stand out. She sat in a divot in the neck of a cow-like construct. The minion was made out of rock and with the rough shape of a cow, it had six legs under it, its back flat and railing around its side and the back to keep things from falling out. She was controlling two me cows and two humanoid figures half the height of the tall, thin trees.

I shrugged. “You’re alone,” I said.

She nodded. “They were all on my case about someone coming with me but fuck that, right?” she said. “Not like anyone can touch us here.”

I hummed. We both came from the same background. Before I’d become Weaver, I’d been Skitter, the warlord of Brockton Bay. Olivia had been Mockshow, a young villain who’d been working for Topsy. It was only two months into her becoming a hero that this had happened.

“How did you know I was coming?” I asked.

“Tecton has some stuff he has working,” she said. “Sensors we put in the ground. They’re not always on, though. Tecton’s worried about his suit’s battery. Which I don’t get because he keeps pulling his suit apart for pieces.”

I gave a short nod. I shared a similar worry with the pack Dragon and Armsmaster had given me. It was why I hadn’t used it so much, worrying about the charge and the maintenance it would eventually need.

“You’ll have to get them up without me,” I said. “I’ll take the donkeys around. They don’t like that.”

“I remember,” she said. “Let’s start haulin’ these fuckers so I can get back there. Kathy was making a stew with some squirrel meat…” She gave me a look, bushy eyebrows bobbing up and down. “Gross, but they taste nice even if there was still fur the last time she made it.”

“There’s crab in the riverbank, I’ll make myself some of those,” I said.

“Your loss,” she said with a shrug. She looked at the large humanoid figures and moved them. My donkeys reacted and I clicked my tongue, calming them. The humanoid figures started moving the animals while I had to get down to move the vegetables. We couldn’t risk bruising them too badly, Olivia’s control still wasn’t so fine and with how many things she was moving, accidents could happen.

She and her minions climbed through the trees, over the rockier ground while I moved around. It took me a further two days before I arrived in Oldstones, the camping and sedate pace stretching the journey out.

Once upon a time the place must have been majestic: Made from a dark stone that Kirk had described as unyielding, with intricacies carved into some of the stone work. When we’d arrived, all that been left was ruin, fallen walls and the hint of a foundation. The gatehouse had been the only thing which still stood, half as tall as I was and the stone so old that lichen had started to grow within it, with a pit in places where the lower parts of the castle had caved in.

But now things had changed: The first thing we’d done was clear up the lowest floor, clearing floorspace and moving rubble, building enough pillars that the entire thing didn’t fall in on itself. Then it had been building walls around the castle as a first defence, Everett to make sure the gate was the only way people could come in and out.

The gate hadn’t been done when I’d left, but the others had been busy. Short, squat, circular towers which flanked the entryway, fingers forming the crown of each tower. There was no gate, instead two giant hands stretched out from the front of the towers, fingers intertwined and barring entry. When I looked at the stone work on the wall, I could see more hand patterning running through it, and with the placements, it felt more like a stylistic choice. The trench was twelve feet wide and twenty feet deep, the bottom of it muddy.

I could feel the others inside, on the bottom most floor with a fire lit and a something that smelt ‘good’ to my bugs permeating the air. The goats were within the walls but at ground level, grazing on the grass-like bushes that dominated our property. When I searched for them, I found the chickens looking for and then eating some of my bugs.

There were a few that were protecting eggs.

I formed a swarm of bugs near the others and whispered, “I’m here.”

I felt as Olivia climbed up a set of stairs that took her to ground level, then going to one of her minions stationed near the entryway. She made it come to life and moved faster, reaching the gate in quick order. She empowered the hands. They unclasped, turning their palms so they faced down and stretching their fingers to form a bridge across the trench.

There were little bumps on the hands that meant my carriage didn’t slip.

“We didn’t expect you, yet,” she said. She’d changed clothes, wearing a simple silk cloth that she’d tied around her lower body as a skirt, a white vest that was part of her costume and a beige silk jacket I’d made.

“Missed you guys,” I said. She snorted. “How are the animals doing?”

“Okay. Eating, pissing, shitting. Animal stuff,” she said with a shrug. “Chickens are laying eggs which is _awesome,_ but it takes most of the morning to find them which sucks.”

I tagged the chickens with some bugs, flicking the mental switch them made them want to sleep.

“Tracking them,” I said. “Everything else?”

Olivia grinned. “Give it a sec, you’ll see.”

There wasn’t a stable so I only unhooked the donkeys to their reins and then left them to roam.

We went into castle, which was only a foundation at this point, one part of the ground had caved, revealing the lower portions. We started climbing down a staircase that jutted out of the walls. I was thankful to note that most of it had been fortified since I’d last walked down these steps and a railing had been put up.

We found the others at the bottom, where walls had been raised between rooms but no roof on them, there were arm pillars growing out and points, hands splayed out at the top. Around these pillars were haphazard mounds of rock.

As I moved bugs through the place, I felt an opening I didn’t know, a cave that lead deeper into the hill. I sent more bugs, getting a sense of the area and I felt a large cave opening up, within was water.

“You found a well,” I said.

“Fuck,” Olivia muttered. “Thought it would take you longer to see it.”

We reached the others who were sitting in a common area, furniture made of stone and metal splayed out. There was a fire in the middle of the room and a massive cauldron sitting atop it, heating up some brown broth.

“What news!” Alex. He was dressed a lot like Olivia, but he hadn’t made his silk clothe a dress, but a toga. One end of the silk around his shoulder while the other was bare, showing tanned skin that had gotten lighter with how little he spent outside in his human form.

“Hand of the King is dead,” I said.

Alex sobered, his spoon stopping at his mouth. 

“Is that bad?” said Ava who sat next to Theo. She was dressed up, having made herself a dress while I’d left, outfitting it with metal clasps to keep it together. Her hair was done up in a messy bun that still looked nice. Theo wore pants with a heavy silk robe, a metal clasp in the middle to keep it together.

It was something no one talked about, but the two had started to become close since all of this had started. When we’d talked about it, Everett had said it was a release of tension, and he didn’t know if he should step in or not. I’d said nothing because it wasn’t something I felt comfortable getting involved in.

I shrugged. “People are talking about it and who the next Hand will be,” I said. “But most hope it’s someone smart because the king…”

“Fat King Robert,” said Alex.

“The Whore King,” Katherine added. She wore her costume pants and had wrapped silk around her breasts, wearing no shirt. I glanced at Kirk who’d had the most trouble seeming like he wasn’t looking at Katherine when she’d first gone shirtless. Good, because that could have caused fission down the line. Kirk had gone the skirt route with his silk, going shirtless while he helped Everett with a dark metal he was making into bars.

There were stories about Fat King Robert and not all of them were good. There was consensus that he’d done well to do away with the Mad King, but that didn’t mean he’d become a _good_ king in the process.

“Anything about us, yet?” said Everett. He wiped his brown of sweat, pulling off a large glove made with sharp claws, a circular opening at the back of the hand with water and a needle. Wires stretched from the gauntlet, wrapped in black tubing and going to his battery pack. “Bit of help,” he said to Kirk.

Kirk undid clasps that held the half-sphere back, then gently placed it against the ground. Everett checked it over the moment he had both arms free, his finger running over a screen at the top of the pack which made lines blur on it before the screen went dark.

“Nothing I heard,” I said. “But there might be now. I scared off some raider who were trying to steal from me.”

“She means she robbed them,” said Olivia.

Everett sighed, giving me a look. “Taylor, we have to keep a low profile.”

“These people are superstitious,” I said. “They’ll chalk it up to their gods.”

“Which is super skeevy on its own,” said Ava. I gave her a look and she shrunk a little, getting herself closer to Theo. “I…just…mean we shouldn’t be disrespecting people’s religions.”

“Fuck that,” said Olivia. “We have powers. We should use them to get what we want.”

“Friendly reminder that you’re a hero now,” said Alex. He gave me a look, as if he wanted to say something to me too but he held it back. I ignored it. He went back to eating his food, still a little awkward at only using his left hand.

“Whatever,” said Olivia. She walked over to the table and sat, pulling a bowl and looking into it.

“Pour yourself some,” said Katherine. “Not standing up again.”

“Me too,” I said. “I’m a little hungry.”

Olivia grabbed me a bowl and went to the cauldron. I went to the table and sat, sitting beside Theo and Ava, but not sitting _with_ them.

“You found a well,” I said.

“Yeah,” said Everett, “and I’m thinking I can make power. But I’ll need an insulator from you for the copper wiring. Rebuilding this place has sort of stopped because I want to make a watermill, the water already flows out into the Blue Fork so we can use that. If I get electricity here then I can charge up my armour again and things will be easier.”

“I’ll get started on it,” I said.

Olivia gave me my bowl of soup and I spread my mind over my range as I ate. I’d lost three bee hives in the two weeks since I’d left and half of my spider population had either been eaten or gone into territory disputes. I established control and moved things back into order.

Clusters of bugs attacked the birds that seemed to have congregated around the area with the larger bugs, keeping them away; I carted spiders on flying bugs into the castle to start them weaving the silk we traded for our supplies; and I stopped the first queen-bee born from killing its sisters, having the sisters go out with a few others to start their own hives. Each queen would have a thousand eggs laid by tomorrow and I would restart honey production.

I rested for most of the day while the others worked. Alex used his telekinetic form to break up stone on the westerly side of the hill, bringing it up to castle ground and making mounds; Kirk and Theo fortified the pillars, the former reworking them while the latter made more hands to make the material thicker and starting to fill in the ceiling; Katherine and Olivia looked after our animals, doing some stock taking for the next supply run; and Ava formed thick copper spools while Everett worked with his mini-gauntlet, lightly tapping a dark metal with its claws.

The day passed quickly, filled with a lot of work. I helped Katherine with the cooking and checked what had been eaten while I’d been on the road. They’d been hit by rats when I was gone and I had to put bugs to the task. My spiders were already in a room, spooling thread and making lengths of silk; and my queen-bee had already laid a lot of eggs to get more hives started. I coordinated the initial foraging for honey within my range, but loosened control for the scouts that went further.

“I also want some smithing supplies,” said Everett when we were enjoying dinner that night. Katherine had gone to pick some blackberries and we’d be enjoying those for dessert. “I don’t want to touch my suit, _any more_ ,” he added with a glance at Olivia, “so I’ll have to build some stuff.”

“That’s not stuff we can get in Fairmarket,” I said.

“But we can get it in a bigger place,” he said. He moved over to a table filled with scrolls and made back with a map. Alex took the cauldron filled with food and moved it aside. Everett pointed towards the coast. “Seagard,” he said. “It’s a port city.”

“We’ve never been to a city before,” said Ava. “You told us to keep a low profile. This doesn’t feel like we’d be keeping a low profile.”

“Yeah,” said Everett and he sighed. “But we need supplies. It’s been a month and…”

“They’re not coming, are they?” said Kirk, his voice breaking a little. He ran his hand nervously over his hair, frowning when it caught in a tangle.

Everett swallowed. “We have to consider that they aren’t,” he said. “We’ll have to find our own way back and for that, I’ll need a lot to work with.”

“Do you think you _can,_ though?” said Katherine. She was directing a hard look at Everett. “Because we’re back in time.”

“Cool thing about science,” said Everett. “Principles are still there, so I’ll be able to do the stuff even if it takes longer. And I could always cobble some stuff from my and Taylor’s suit.”

It was uncomfortable to think about, but if it would help us out of this mess, then we had to make sacrifices. I gave him a nod.

“I have to go there, see the stuff I can get,” he said.

“That’ll be a long trip,” I said. “Especially on the donkeys. It takes us almost two weeks to get to Fairmarket and back. What will it be, two, maybe three weeks just to _get_ to this place?”

“I could go!” said Olive, her voice pitched up. “I’ve been stuck here the longest—”

“We haven’t exactly gone anywhere, either,” said Ava.

“That’s because you don’t want to,” said Olivia. “I wanted to head to Fairmarket with Taylor, but all of you said I’d be too loud and shit.”

“You would be,” said Alex.

“But you _need_ me now,” said Olivia. “We can take the cows. They don’t have to sleep unless when I do, they don’t get tired and they’ll be able to carry a lot of the shit you’ll want to buy.”

“She’s sorta right,” I said.

“Yes!” said Olivia. Everett sighed.

“I could come too,” said Alex. “Stretch my legs.”

“Silk might sell at a higher price if the place is bigger,” I said. “We’ll have to wait until I’ve got a good supply so you have the money.”

“Not all of it,” said Katherine. “We’ll still need to restock supplies. Some of the stuff you didn’t buy. Grains and stuff so we can make bread and maybe we can learn how to make jam with the blackberries. Ava and Theo could go into town.”

“Um…” said Theo, blushing and giving Katherine a look.

“Yeah. Yes,” said Ava, a little too excited.

“Let’s give Taylor some time to get some honey and finish off some silk before you guys go,” he said. “Then we’ll prepare for our trips.”

⸸

It was a month and two weeks before there was enough honey and silk that Ava and Theo could be off, with Olivia. We now had thirty-six chicks within the property and a bird of prey problem I was having to watch for; two of our other goats were pregnant, their bellies starting to swell; and we’d found acorns in the trees which were now supplementing our diet.

The ceiling was complete and Alex would be spending his last few days before his trip carting mounds to the higher floor so we could start work on the basement level. There was still a large portion that was filled with rubble, but Everett had made sure the rubble wouldn’t shift if we did work too close to it. He’d had built a rudimentary mill, magnets at its centre and coils of insulated copper coiled around a rod in the middle, the wire moving towards us. He’d been hoping to use the water to move the mill, but the current wasn’t fast enough for a good charge and we had to use Olivia’s power instead.

“Huh,” said Everett. “Surprised that worked. Could have made something smaller to charge my suit while we went to Seagard.”

“We are _not_ postponing the trip anymore,” said Olivia. “I feel cooped up.”

“Stir crazy,” I said.

“Yeah!” she said.

Theo and Ava had left a few days ago with our donkeys and their wares and Olivia had been primed to leave. She was counting down the days before her group were set to take off.

“We’ll charge up Taylor’s suit first,” he said. “Make sure nothing happens while I’m away. I can’t do anything about maintenance, yet, but Dragon’s known to make stuff that lasts. I’ll carry some magnets and wire, maybe I could think of something as we travel.”

It was half a week before my suit was all charged up and they could leave.

“Taylor’s in charge,” he said. “But I want you to exercise your best judgement. Don’t get into any fights if you don’t have to, stay inside as much as you can.”

“I’ll take care of them,” I said.

Which left me with Katherine and Kirk.

Kirk kept to himself, he had pillars and walls to make and fortify, and a lot of rubble to do it with. Katherine spent a lot of time outside, jogging between trees when she could and I’d caught her trying to catch squirrels a few times. I kept myself busy with my bugs, spiders making weaves of silk, bees making more honey and making sure the chicks could find bugs as they foraged. Bringing water up for the goats was the one thing that took the most amount of effort, but thankfully we only had to do it a few times a week.

“Come with me,” I said five days in. The three of us left the castle and moved through the dense trees on the hill below our castle. It didn’t take me too long before I found deer, bound them with silk and kept them in place.

“You’re not gonna kill those, are you?” said Kirk. They were smaller than I expected, a red-brown coat and white butts, straight horns the size of their ears. They were struggling against the silk, futilely trying to pull themselves free.

“We need the meat,” I said, pulling out my knife. “Might be good practise for skinning too. It’s been getting a little windy and we need the blankets.”

“Do you even know how to skin an animal?” said Katherine. I shook my head. She sighed, muttering something under her breath before she pulled out her own knife. “Guess we have to learn if we’re stuck here.”

“We’re not stuck,” said Kirk.

“We can’t exactly get back home, can we?” said Katherine, her tone tight. “I’d call that stuck.”

“Until Tecton figures something out,” said Kirk. Katherine snorted. “What do you think, Taylor? You’ve been on another world, right? Shit like this happened every day in Brockton Bay.”

I sighed, I didn’t like to think about it but a part of me didn’t think Everett would be able to do it. He was an earth tinker, I couldn’t see him suddenly being able to open a rift between realities. We just didn’t have the right mix of powers.

But that wasn’t what Kirk needed to hear. He was still new to this, still a kid in some ways and he might break if I didn’t give him what he wanted.

“Everett’s doing all he can,” I said. “Let’s trust him.”

Katherine snorted again, moving to one of the bound animals and keeping it in place with her strength. She cut its throat with her knife and the thing _kicked_ not going down easily. Katherine stood back, watching it with a cold expression.

“Fuck all of this,” Kirk said and he turned away.

I let one of the deer go and moved to my own, slitting its throat and watching as it died out. I’d killed before, shot a man, killed a lot of clones, not to mention Alexandria and Director Tagg, but watching the deer bleed out, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. I pushed it down because it wasn’t needed. We needed meat to survive and morality had to take a back seat to that.

“String them up and wait for them to bleed out before hauling them back,” I said. “I think I saw this somewhere.”

“You’re making this up as you go along, aren’t you?” she said.

“This is a learning step for all of us,” I said.

I was better at tying knots and Katherine was strong. She held them up while I climbed up a tree and tied the deer by its leg, then moved on to the next. We watched the deer bleed out before starting to haul them back. The pack of wolves was back and it was braver this time, trying to split up and circle around my bugs to get through to us but I kept harrying them until they got the message.

“There’s a wolf pack on the hill,” I said. “We’ll have to be on the lookout if we keep travelling.”

Katherine gave me a curt nod, focusing more on the stuff she was carrying than my words.

When we got back to Oldstones Kirk was working on the wall, maybe doing some fortifications on it. The hands around the gate were still clasped, barring the gate shut and the trench was too deep and too wide to jump in or across. But there was a little door Kirk had made and there were stairs on the side of the ditch, leading down one side and up another.

It was a way people could circumvent our security, but with Olivia gone, coming and going was a little hard since it needed her power. We spent the next while mostly inside, with Katherine and I trying our best to skin the deer.

Three weeks passed and Theo and Ava weren’t back. They were both new, inexperienced and this situation was bad enough on its own that I was pissed at myself that they hadn’t had a more experienced escort. Kirk could have gone with Everett to Seagard and Alex could have gone with Theo and Ava.

Now they were a week above the time it took to get to Fairmarket and back and I wasn’t sure what to do.

“We should go to Fairmarket to see what’s going on,” said Katherine. “They could be in trouble and without phones…”

That was the shitty thing about this time, wasn’t it? They could need help and be unable to ask for it because of the distance, or they might be on their way back and we might miss them on the way here.

“Let’s give them the benefit of the doubt,” I said. “Half a week and then we go out.”

“Half a week?” said Katherine. “They could be dead by then.”

“We’re not sure _if_ they need help,” I said. “We could miss them on their way here. They’ll be travelling through the road, winding around the hill and since we can’t use Everett’s tech…”

“Then I’ll go and wait for them,” she said. “I’ll cut through the trees until I reach the second wind, wait for them there.”

I thought about it. It wouldn’t do any good if they’d already passed where she wanted to go, but she needed it, and right now I didn’t need a mutiny.

“In the day,” I said. “There are wolves out there and I’d rather you weren’t travelling alone at night. You’ll also need to carry some supplies to get you through the day.”

“Fine,” she said.

I spent time checking over my range, cursing myself for not having killed the pack. My mind seemed to draw up scenarios where Ava and Theo were caught unaware by a pack of wolves, the hillside being run red with their blood.

“Get back if they don’t come back by evening,” I said the next morning. Katherine nodded, leaving at a light jog. “Start making spires along the walls,” I told Kirk. “We might have to leave the castle soon.”

He nodded and turned to doing that for most of the day.

⸸

It wasn’t Katherine who returned near nightfall, but Ava, dressed in a suit of armour and carrying over a dozen swords on her back. She was tired, breathing hard, hair sticking against her forehead with sweat and clumps of mud sticking to it. The moment she’d cleared the trench, jumped over it in a single bound, she let herself stumble and fall.

Kirk finished making the door and oozed out of the wall. I stepped through, seeing Ava for the first time. The armour had nicks and scrapes and dirt, smears of blood and when I looked at Ava, her eyes were wide.

“What happened?” Kirk asked. “Where are the others?”

“Still…coming,” said Ava. She began pulling off her the swords. The armour popped off in parts, coming apart like an egg and falling on the ground. Kirk quickly looked away.

“You were attacked,” I said.

Ava swallowed. “I _know,”_ she said. “We’re supposed to keep a low profile, not show off but we _had_ to.”

“Ava,” I said and her face snapped to mine, her eyes still wide and her hands shaking. “Tell me what happened.”

“A boy triggered,” she said. “We heard people talking about him. The people in Fairmarket were going to kill him, but some sellswords wanted to sell him to slavers. We were gonna leave it at first but we just couldn’t. We wanted to save him.”

“You succeeded?” I said. She gave a jerky nod. “Then good. You did good. We’re heroes and we save people. What you and Theo did wasn’t wrong in any way.”

Ava smiled a little, a small relief when I was sure she’d been forced to do something she didn’t like.

“After that you were attacked,” I said.

Ava nodded. “We managed to get the him free and Theo ran back to town to fetch his parents in case the sellswords went to them. We waited along the river and that’s when I first saw them. There were three scouts at first and I scared them off, giving Theo time to catch up. We ran—well we couldn’t really run with a carriage—and the donkeys got tired. More of them caught up to us.”

“Do you have a number?” I asked.

“We dealt with over a dozen the first time,” she said and she stopped. “We sent them away with walls and hands to hold their horses, but they just came back with more. We had to fight over twenty people. We…”

She stopped, tears running. She wiped them away with her sweaty arm.

“It’s okay,” said Kirk, the awkwardness forgotten. He bent forward and wrapping her in a hug and Ava didn’t mind, didn’t blush because her mind was elsewhere. I gave her a moment even if I wanted to move on, learn more and think about how to tackle _this_ problem.

“We crossed the Blue Fork,” she said. “Making a bridge that led to the other side. We walked for half a day before we heard them. We crossed again and pulled the bridge apart, making them double back. But they’re on horses and it wouldn’t be long before they caught up to us. So we cut through the forest, Theo making a road by pushing trees away.”

I nodded. “We might have to protect the castle if they come,” I said. “Kirk.” He turned my way, determination cast across his expression. “You and Ava will stay here. I want a bridge and a door prepared. When we get close, you should be ready to break the bridge so they don’t get over.”

He nodded.

“I’ll get my costume and go after the others. They might need my power,” I told them.

I got my costume, looking over the charge. It was three-quarters of the way full even though I hadn’t used it since Everett had charged it. Some thinker stuff that meant electricity wasn’t enough? Or had I messed things up?

I pushed caution to the wind and took off, flying in short bursts and runs. I tested the arms and though the worked, they were slow to respond. Better to depend on my bugs. I started gathering a good swarm, a mass of spiders on me already unspooling silk lines. Flying bugs scouted, searching for any people. I flew above the trees when I was feeling particularly brave, moving faster than I would, hoping to catch Katherine and Theo close to where Ava would have started her run, on the second winding road to the east.

It took me thirty minutes before I got first winding of the road and I started running along the road instead of going through the forest. I ran-flew another thirty minutes before I sensed them in my range, moving through the forest, hands shooting out and pushing trees aside.

I turned, using the pack to glide forward and give my legs a break. I started tagging the others. It was commendable that even with being attacked, Theo and Ava had kept the carriage intact. There was a family of five with them: a woman with a baby in her hands and a young child sitting beside her, both at the back of the carriage; the husband had taken the reins of the donkeys and a teenager walked beside the carriage. Grace flanked the carriage while Golem walked ahead of the carriage, plunging his hands into the ground and pushing aside trees to clear the ground.

There were supplies on the back of the carriage, clothes and food and salt and dyes; they’d gotten more chickens and over a dozen piglets.

I formed a bug clone and there was a scream. The boy walking beside the husband reacted, his limbs disappearing in a mass of wind that spread out as he flailed at the bugs. The wind hit and killed a third of my bugs before I moved them back.

“It’s okay,” said Golem. Everyone had stepped back, even the father getting distance from his son. “This is another. A friend. Weaver—”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll be scouting, holding them off.”

“I should come with you,” said Grace.

“No,” I said. Golem plunged his hands into the ground, pushing apart trees and forming a path. Behind him, he tore apart the hands he’d grown to create an uneven area that no horse could move through. “I’ll attack at distance, less chance of any of us getting hurt.”

“They could just go around the other side of the hill,” said Grace. “We can’t be sure you’ll find them.”

I stopped, nodded, remembered they couldn’t see me then had the bug clone nod. As much as it gave away our base, it was better to attack them from the castle. We’d be protected by the walls and I’d have time to deploy my bugs. Not that they could see me, of course.

“Okay,” I said. “I’m just ahead of you. See you in a bit.”

They took a bit to reach us and we moved using the road again. The path wasn’t as steep as just scaling the hill and it would be less laborious than climbing up but it took longer. I felt for the donkeys because they seemed tired. I had to wonder how long they’d been walking when they were being chased.

“Is it a trigger-trigger or just powers?” I asked keeping my distance and watching the family. They were scared, hunching together, but they kept their heads low and didn’t say anything. The boy with powers kept looking at us at times.

“He was drunk when it happened,” said Golem. “And it feels like he’s a breaker.”

“A bit like Wanton’s power,” said Grace.

I nodded. “Could _we_ be doing this?” I said. “Powers spread, maybe that’s happening here?”

“But it usually spreads across family members,” she said. “Unless he’s some sort of family of Wanton’s, an ancestor maybe or some alt stuff?”

It was very unlikely since Wanton was Hispanic and this place felt like a Europe with a different name. But it was worth asking, trying to make sense of all of this.

“We’ll have to wait for Wanton to get back,” I said. “Fill in the blanks.”

The castle got within range and I sensed them. There were over twenty and they had been here so long that they’d formed a camp, over ten of them were working to fell a tree to form a bridge. I checked with my bugs and Annex had dropped his bridge, undone the door going in. I found Annex and Cuff below.

“You aren’t protecting the castle,” I said after forming a small cluster of bugs.

“We…I…”

“We thought it was better to wait for you,” said Annex. “Less risk this way.”

Cuff nodded but she was shaking.

Night had fallen and I could hear the men ululating at times, a few blowing horns. It had been evening when Cuff had arrived and ball-parking it, we’d been walking for four hours without stopping. Cuff and Annex had had to sit all that time knowing there was the chance of the castle being breached.

I was more heavy-handed than I needed to be when I attacked, but it was for a purpose. These were times where violence dominated, where people could be burned at the stake for being different. I needed more than anything to send a message, use scare tactics that were _felt_ every time people sought to come back here and attack.

Silk around weapons and tied around trees. I formed swarms in the darkness and had them fall over camp fires, snuffing them up with crackling pops. I called my bees to action and I had them attack, stinging but not letting out venom and going for the ears and mouths.

People tried to get on horses and I didn’t allow it, spooking the horses and having them run. People would die, there were wolves on the hill and the trip could be long on foot, but it was something that had to be done.

By the time we arrived at the gate, it was clear of people, only littered with weapons.

⸸

“Breakfast, Your Worship,” Arina said with a bow, putting a plate of fried eggs in front of me. Part of the wares Theo and Ava had brought back was lard. It wouldn’t last long, but it would make for some good luxury food.

“Thank you,” I said, taking some stale bread and a pitcher of honey-water. It had been three days since they’d arrived and I’d long since given up on correcting them about the title. It certainly was a step better from being called Goddess Weaver all the time.

She smiled and ran off, going to her mother, Myna, who was preparing the deer skin to be made into clothes. The father, Jarack, was doing better work on the deer Ava and I had tried to skin and cut it into pieces. He’d asked and I’d given permission for him start preserving the meat.

I focused on the spiders I had working, between the weaves of silk and the lines of copper I’d successfully insulated; growing my hives both to make more honey and to have scarier bugs. Ava was turning the weapons into putty to be reworked when Everett got back; Theo and Kirk were putting more work into the basement, hopeful that it would be our first defence in case anyone made it past the wall; and Katherine was training the fifteen-year-old Barden to use his power.

A part of me expected an attack. It was twice now that we’d attacked bandits, but now it was more overt. Ava was a close-combat fighter and they would have seen her powers at work, not to mention the signs still left of Theo’s power and whatever tale would spread in Fairmarket because of the boy’s trigger.

“Cuff,” I said, a glance at the family who were in hearing distance. I still didn’t know why I didn’t feel comfortable using names around them when they wouldn’t care about our civilian identities, but old habits died hard.

She’d been so focused on her work that she started.

“We’re going up to Grace and Barden. Light sparring,” I said.

“You think they’re going to attack again?” said Ava.

I let out a sigh and nodded. “They think we’re witches,” I said.

The father had explained Barden being attacked by a group, trying to steal some money from him while he’d been drunk. Barden had triggered and attacked with invisible hands, breaking bones and gouging skin. The townspeople had found out about this and formed a mob, wanting to kill the witch.

“At least going by things with Barden. Going by our history, people don’t live with people they think are witches.”

“But can’t we just explain what we are?” she said. “We could try talking instead of fighting… _killing.”_

“Most of the people we’ve been dealing with are bandits,” I said. “People that want to pillage—”

“But can’t we _try?_ It can’t hurt, can it?”

“It can’t,” I said. “We’ll try, but let’s get some combat practice, nonetheless. We might have to fight and we want to be on top form, then.”

We went upstairs, discussing it with the others. Kirk said his time was better spent building and he was right, but Theo raised some pillars and came to join us.

Training couldn’t be anything more than light because we didn’t have medical supplies. Right now, we were doing our best to cook meat as thoroughly as possible, making sure we washed our hands and that sewerage moved through tunnels Everett had made. We were hoping we wouldn’t get any illnesses because we wouldn’t know how to deal with it, and more than anything injuries or broken bones might be the end of us.

Jarack’s family was a boon because they offered prized knowledge. Pine needles could be made into tea, with the younger pines making sweeter tea while the older pines made tea that was bitter.

“…there are some that are poisonous, Your Worship,” said Jarack as we were moving amongst the trees. “Deeper in the south. But these are not so.”

Lower on the hill were oak trees and these had acorns which we could bake—which we already knew—but we’d have to keep away our livestock because its leaves were poisonous.

“…the thistle,” said Barden and he was talking to Katherine as we went berry picking. They’d bonded the past few weeks and he seemed to enjoy the pleasure of her company. This was a purple flower protected by thorns. “My grandmother used to swear by it when it came to healing headaches.”

There was gorse, a yellow flowering plant that was flammable and could make either salads, tea or wine. The flower certainly smelled nice, with a coconutty scent and the taste of bitter almonds—which honey helped to ease. But the things were hard to pick because they were _surrounded_ by thorns. Bugs made quick work of that. There was sedge, the grass-like bush that the goats seemed to like, these could be used as insulation of the cold from living underground.

A month passed quickly because there was just so much to do between training and supplementing our food supplies.

“…I’m a god-kin,” said Barden, the pair outside, sitting under the shade of the godswood, a giant pale tree with red leaves, a face carved into its trunk. “I’ve heard you speak. Surely the other gods won’t look down on _this,_ on _us.”_

“It’s complicated,” said Katherine.

“How can it be complicated when you want this?” Barden said. He leaned closer to Katherine and that was my cue to pull away, focusing elsewhere.

Theo and Ava were officially together and that seemed to have an effect on the group. Katherine had gotten closer to Barden, a young man who seemed to share her work ethic and was entranced by her, while Kirk was pulling away, focusing more on his work building the basement and not talking to anyone except Arina.

“Kirk,” I said the next morning. “You want to go fishing? Change the food we’re eating?”

“Can I come?” said Arina. “Annex the Shaper tells the best stories.”

“Arina,” said her mother, scandalised. “Apologies, Great Ones—”

“You really don’t have to call us that,” said Theo.

“My apologies,” the woman said with a bow. Theo sighed.

“I wouldn’t mind it,” said Kirk and he smiled, his eyes looking further away. He had a sister, I knew, and after three months he would be missing her. What did it say about me that I didn’t have as strong a feeling about Dad?

“You’re fun to be around,” he said.

Arina smiled, blushing.

I nodded. “Grace,” I said. “You’ll lead.”

We left with some nets and bags to carry the fish back, moving through the trees down the hill. Annex breathed lighter being out of the castle, shoulders straight and with Arina sitting on his shoulders, telling her of young Luke who’d gone beyond the stars to fight a great evil.

The trip took a few hours and I did most of the fishing, standing in hip-high water and holding my rod in with a worm as bait. Mostly though, I concentrated on the bugs in my range and moving crabs into the bucket.

“I’m going for a swim,” said Kirk.

“Be careful,” I said, absently. We’d found a place where the river wasn’t so steep and the current moved slower here. The water was deep enough to swim through, though it would take a bit to swim across.

Arina didn’t know how to swim which meant she romped through the forest smelling flowers.

We returned in the evening and it felt just right that we arrived to twenty men on horses and thirty of foot, camping out in front of the castle. When I searched for the others, I found there were more than I remembered; six more people, in heavy armour sitting on hand stools, a table before them and a spread of food put out. The others sat opposite the men in armour, while Jarack’s family stood back, with Barden standing just behind Grace.

I motioned for Kirk to stop. “What’s going on?” he said, suddenly on alert, pulling Arina closer and scanning our surroundings.

“Give me a sec,” I said.

Bugs clustered together and the six newcomers sat straighter, some of them rising out of their seats and going for their swords. I formed a face that stared them down.

“I am Weaver,” I said through my bugs. “Goddess of Silk and Honey. Who are you who visits here?”

A title I’d heard from Jarack’s family: I was Weaver of Silk and Honey; Kirk was Annex the Shaper; Theo, Golem of Gauntlets; Ava, Cuff the Smith; and Katherine was Grace the Warrior.

We’d made a plan that we would play into it instead of being thought of as witches, but with how much Ava hadn’t liked that, I was afraid they wouldn’t have gone through with it.

One of the three still sitting stood. A tall man, broad-shouldered. He wore heavy armour and a heavy coat.

“Goddess Weaver,” he said. “It is a pleasure to make your         acquaintance. I am Tytos Blackwood, Lord of Raventree Hall and bannerman to House Tully. It is through their order that I am here today, to investigate the claim that Mudd Castle is once again alive.”

“House Tully,” I said. “You’ll have to forgive me, my lord, for the workings of this world are unknown to me. My wards and our god-kin—” I felt Grace tense a little “—have seen to teaching us, but it is slow with the work we have put in to rebuild this ruined castle.”

“House Tully, led by Edmure Tully since Lord Hoster Tully has taken ill, is the Warden of the Riverlands, and our Lord and Liege. He was given authority by King Robert Baratheon to keep the king’s peace. You are in his domain.”

“His domain,” I said, the words whispered. “And what does entail, being part of his domain?”

“Aid in the protection of the Riverlands,” he said. “Keeping the king’s peace and his justice. It means a portion of your wealth as taxes.”

“Something we were discussing before your arrival,” said Grace. “Lord Blackwood has offered us aid, men to help with rebuilding, knights to hold off more bandits and supplies from their granary.”

Things we needed. Our supplies were running out and with the atmosphere as it was, it was hard to know if we would come back from Fairmarket without incident.

“And what will you expect in repayment?” I asked.

“The honour of housing the Living Gods is pleasure enough,” he said.

Which I didn’t buy for a second. Through their knights they would spy on us, but it would be manpower that made things easier. It would be a greater understanding of the politics of this place. Three months and there still was no sign anyone was looking for us. Everett would like us to stay hidden, keep a low profile, but the genie was already out and I now had to make the best of a bad situation.

“Annex the Shaper and I are coming,” I said, “warn your men against attacking.”


	2. Chapter 2

Grace

 

Lord Blackwood sat in one of Golem’s hand-chairs, his back straight and cold grey eyes taking us in. On the surface, it looked like he was holding it together, but I’d seen enough scared people to know the tell-tale signs: That one hand sat on his weapon, closed tightly around it; his eyes never settling on one person but trying to take us all in, waiting for a move; and the small signs of sweat on his forehead, scared as all shit that this would end badly.

The knights on either side of him held themselves much like Lord Blackwood, but where he was focused on us, they were focused on the terrain. Watching the swarm of bugs drifting around us, carrying yellow flower petals of the gorse plant, other times it was just butterflies frolicking, looking almost innocent, and the swarms that closed in on birds that swooped in, trying to eat at the bugs.

My fists clenched, heat starting in my stomach and radiating out. I wanted to say something, to swear and shout, but I couldn’t. We were on-mission and personal matters had to be put on pause.

“Something we would like avoided is dispute,” Weaver said. She’d arrived and taken over, which still smarted. She was older than me, but I’d been on the team longer and it was in the cards that I would lead the team when Tecton was gone. But that he’d chosen Weaver over me made me feel a little hollow. It made me think that the promotion would come to because of seniority instead of skill.

“Ours is not to change the workings of your world,” she continued, with the cold confidence I remembered when we’d gone after Echidna and during the fight with Behemoth. I remembered the video and her talking to the Indian cape, Percy, how she’d set that other guy up. Then how everyone had listened when she’d spoken, coming up with a plan to get Behemoth off-kilter enough that Percy had been able to strike.

_Don’t have to worry about your unearned promotion now, do you? It’s not like you’re ever gonna get out of here._

“Only to build a home for ourselves until such a time we can return to our realm,” she continued. A part of me snorted. “As much as we can, we would like to be absolved from your politics.”

“As much as you can, my lady?” he said.

“As much as we can,” she said and paused so long that it started to become awkward. Lord Blackwood did nothing to fill the silence. “We’ve taken land. Land which belongs to one of the Lords of the Riverlands, payment seems fitting. To protect the peace is also fitting, it is a belief of my companions and those of our realm that it is in every being’s interest to preserve the peace. But there are connotations to protecting the Riverlands. The meaning behind ‘protect’ can be bent to excuse great atrocities.”

_The road to hell is paved with good intentions,_ I thought, _but what are yours? Why would you breach trust like that?_

I felt the anger wanting to spill and I pushed it back, stopping my mind from drifting and focusing on this.

Lord Blackwood frowned. “You doubt the honour of Lord Tully and, by extension, the Riverlands?”

Weaver sat straighter, a few bees fluttering close and going to her hair, moving a strand that had drifted to her face. Lord Blackwood didn’t sit straighter, but he became more rigid, his eyes tracking the bee.

_Careful Weaver,_ the thought came, _your villain is showing._

The anger flared as I caught sight of Barden shifting. He’d been standing what was nearing thirty minutes after climbing up those freaking stairs with food for Lord Blackwood and his knights. He would be starting to feel it.

_God-kin_ , Taylor’d said and it couldn’t be coincidence. I knew she could see and hear through her bugs, but I hadn’t thought she’d be listening to _us_. There would have been no threat when I’d been talking to Barden, we’d just been resting after training, and even if there were why hadn’t she told me about it?

It was discomforting to think about, forcing me to backtrack and try to remember every conversation I’d had, everything I’d said and everything I’d done. Had I done something stupid? Was there something embarrassing she would use against me? Had she caught me when I’d broken down and punched a tree to pulp? What private moments had she seen or heard and what would she do with that information?

“It is no hyperbole to say, my lord, that with my companions and I at your side, you might succeed in taking Westeros,” she said.

Cuff shifted. I was thankful she was in costume because for all that I was _pissed,_ I knew what Weaver was thinking, the direction she was playing things. We’d been on a few missions together and she’d taken to training me once upon a time, before that had gotten too much. I’d seen the sort of things she was teaching Golem.

This was about fear, projecting more power than we had so people would be wary of coming after us. Being thought of as a god was part of that. There was a certain respect, if they were thinking about coming after us, selling us like they’d been trying to with Barden, this would give them pause.

But it was like glamour, if we gave reason for doubt, it would crack, break and then there’d be backlash three times over.

It was smart and she’d come up with it. We’d helped here and there in the planning of a hypothetical of an assault, but she’d been the one to come up with the plan and refine it. All while I’d…done what, exactly? Trained? Because the sort of training didn’t feel like enough right now.

“It is imperative, then, that we prevent such an event from occurring,” Weaver continued. “If we’re to stay here, we would need to be exempt from conscription. If there is a call, we’d have to choose for ourselves if your call is worth our appearance.”

“I confess this is not in my authority to give, my lady,” said Lord Blackwood. “I would have to send a raven to Lord Edmure for direction…or perhaps—”

“Forgive me for being curt, Lord Blackwood, but that won’t be possible,” Weaver said. “Any trip near a month and we won’t take.”

“Of course,” he said with a nod. “Then I ask we continue talks after I’ve received word. For now, I will send a raven to Lord Tully.”

“That is acceptable,” said Weaver.

“Then, we shall take our leave,” said Lord Blackwood, he stood and his knights stood with him. He gave a low bow to us and turned away, the clinking of their armour filling the air.

“Leave us,” I said, the insecurity going down and my anger bubbling back up.

Jarack took Arina by the shoulder and pushed her towards the castle; Myna had already left, evening had been falling and baby Eddin hadn’t liked being outside. Barden dithered, looking at me with wide, questioning eyes.

“You too.”

His face dropped a little but he didn’t question it, moving away. Everyone was looking at me. Kirk looking better, not exactly happy but recharged; Ava shifted as though spooked, but that was the default for her since she’d had to fight those sellswords; Theo, I couldn’t separate from how solemn his mask looked; and Taylor looked bored.

“God-kin,” I said and I wanted it to click. I wanted to watch as it filled in that I knew what she was doing, to see a bit of guilt for having been caught. There was none of that. “You’ve been fucking spying on us! Watching us and listening to us in secret!”

Ava’s head snapped in Taylor’s direction, she pulled off her mask and she was blushing, her expression nearing anger before losing it and regaining it, except watered-down.

“I haven’t been spying,” said Taylor, her voice calm, as if it didn’t mean anything.

“So what?” I said with a shrug. I caught bugs starting to move around us, a swarm starting up but keeping its distance, most of the bugs were forming a wall that blocked us from where Lord Blackwood and his people were camped out, a buzzing started. “It’s a coincidence that you said god-kin? Something the only other person I’ve heard say it is Barden?”

“Aren’t you jumping the gun?” said Kirk. “Myna, Jarack or Arina could have said it.”

“Did Arina say it to you?” I asked, turning on him. “You two talk a lot? And does it feel like Jarack and Myna would just strike up conversation? They’ve been here a month and what can we say we know about them?”

It hurt a little that I had to fight like this to get them to believe me, that to Taylor’s word meant more than mine. But then, even if she could be scary when she led, she’d earned their respect in a way maybe I hadn’t.

_She’s a teammate you shouldn’t be comparing yourself to her,_ the thought came, but it didn’t help enough. The anger slotted in and things felt a little better.

“Taylor?” said Theo, his voice soft. He’d taken off his mask now. He was a large guy, tall and with a body type that strayed towards pudgy, but since we’d gotten here he’d lost that pudge.

“You’re right,” she said. “I’ve been listening.”

_“Fuck,”_ I said.

Kirk let out a breath and Ava turn redder, looking down.

“You’ve been watching everything?” Ava said.

“I’ve been keeping track of movements,” said Taylor. “Mostly its watching Jarack and his family, especially Myna when is cooking. If there’s poison—”

“But you’ve been listening to _personal_ conversations,” I cut in. “Things you weren’t supposed to hear.”

“I turn away when stuff gets personal,” she said and still there wasn’t any remorse.

“But you’ve _heard_ stuff,” said Kirk. He’d drawn in, looking down more. “There has to be a point where you weren’t sure and you heard something you weren’t supposed to.”

Taylor nodded and my hand hurt with how tightly my fist was clenched. My nails had been growing out and I could feel as they threatened to break skin. I moved my invulnerability to my hand and the pressure abated.

“Does that mean…?” said Ava, still red.

“No,” said Taylor. “Since you and Theo became a couple I’ve only tagged you to know where you are. I’ve been keeping my bugs away.”

“But not for me and Kathy,” said Kirk

“No,” she said.

“Why?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I can’t say I’ve thought about it,” she said. “It’s just something I do in the background as I do everything else. Keep track, make sure you’re safe.”

I took a breath and let it out. “Keep your bugs away from me,” I said. “Even if you don’t trust Barden, then fucking trust me. Trust I can handle myself.”

“Okay,” she said and I had to hold back my anger. No sorry, still no remorse, acting like it was the natural path to take things.

_And now she’ll ignore this and focus on the mission._

“We should get inside and talk about _this,”_ said Taylor, the bugs pulled back to reveal the gate. “But first Kirk you’ll have to drop the bridge and close the door. I’ll be listening to what they’re saying, seeing if they have any tricks up their sleeves.”

Just pretending nothing happened or maybe not caring that it had. If Everett were here he’d tell me to give her the benefit of the doubt. All of us were stressed, wanting to go home, to go back to that semblance of normalcy. This could be how Taylor reacted to her own stress. But it sucked that she didn’t _look_ stressed. She seemed fine and in control where the others had changed in little ways.

_Maybe that’s why she’s better._

“I’m gonna stay up here for a bit,” I said. “Get some fresh air.”

“You want company?” said Theo.

I shook my head. “Gonna look at the stars,” I said. He nodded and left, and I did that for a bit before it quickly got boring. I ran and jumped up the perimeter wall, making my hands invulnerable as they closed on the ledge with the spikes. I started walking on the rampart, watching the darkness for any movement. Taylor would be watching them, of course, but it felt better to be doing something.

I walked around the property, which took me a good while and finally I was at the gate, watching the fires where the men were camped out, seeing the flutter of a flag with ravens and a white tree as its insignia. They’d set up tents well into the trees, but I could see guards up, looking in the direction of the castle. 

A part of me had loved the whole knight thing at one point. The gallant knight in shining armour going to save the fair maiden, the honourable knight facing adversity and then finding out that the evil king was a usurper and _he_ was the rightful king all along.

But a part of me had always known that that wasn’t how the world really worked.

This place was _shit_ because it was very hard to find the time to _be,_ carve out a bit of happiness. Since getting here we’d been working: First finding a place for the night, keeping watch so we weren’t attacked by animals or people; then it had been learning how to build fires again, scrounging for food and having to boil water a lot because of bacteria. Then it was the trips and worrying about the people _taking_ the trip, trying to keep busy so it didn’t take up all your time, but feeling a sort of emotional fatigue that built and built and built. It felt like there wasn’t any comfort here and if there was, it was very much _lesser_ than Earth Bet. There wasn’t that low-level gratification that could make someone feel even a false sense of happiness.

And we would be staying here for the foreseeable future.

I caught a few bugs drifting close and my hands clenched. They got together in a small swarm and spoke, “coming up,” in that hiss-crackle that shouldn’t have made words but did somehow.

I looked back and there she was, walking towards the wall, wearing her flight pack. She flicked it on, wings coming out and she jumped, hovering more the flying towards me. She landed and all but one of the wings retracted. She had them sprout again and then retract, again the same wing stuck out. She sighed, trying a last time and managing to get them all in.

“I thought you were saving that,” I said. I was still in costume, which meant no pockets and that was annoying.

“It’s losing charge even when it’s off,” she said and she sounded sad about it. “I think it’s due for a look-through.”

Silence stretched between us.

“How are things looking?” I asked, motioning for them.

“They don’t believe we’re gods,” she said.

“It was an act?”

She nodded. “They’re sceptic,” she said. “In a world where either magic exists or everyone is superstitious, it’s easier to believe this is magic than _gods.”_

“Jarack seemed to believe it pretty easily.”

“They’re peasants,” she said. I gave her a look and she shrugged. “All of them don’t know how to read, most of their stories are oral. But _they_ can, at least a few of them. Lord Blackwood can write but he’s not the best and he’s having a man he calls Maester Wynne do it for him. Dictating, made things easier.” She tapped her ears.

“It’s really shitty that you’re telling me all of this when I’m still pissed at you for spying on us,” I said. I gave her a look and she still seemed unaffected. “God, you could at least be _moved._ Seem sorry about it.”

“I can’t say I’m sorry,” she said and shrugged.

“Because you were right?”

“Because my reasons were right.”

“Which is missing the simplest thing you could have done,” I said with a sigh. _“Talk_ to me. Get out of your own head and communicate.” I sighed again. “I know you’re used to things with the Undersiders, used to Tattletale and her reading your thoughts, but we’re not like that.”

She gave a small nod, looking ahead.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Don’t say that now,” I said. “It just sounds like you’re saying it because I told you to.”

“Then…something else,” she said. “Bitch, she’d want an eye for an eye.”

“Seems about right,” I muttered. The Undersiders were scary in their own ways, all of them, but Bitch had been scary in the ‘I could tear you apart with my bare hands’ way. Tall and constantly wearing a grimace, her eyes in a scowl and her arms crossed with clenched hands.

“So I’m about to tell you something and how you use it is up to you,” she said.

“I should tell you no, but I really don’t want to.”

“Privacy was a loose concept in the Undersiders,” she said. “Secrets were hard to keep with Tattletale and Imp…”

“What did she do?” I asked and my tone might have been too smug.

“She watched Brian and I…”

“That’s…just _wrong.”_

“It happened,” she said.

“That doesn’t mean it’s right,” I said. _“Fuck._ I mean…that’s still not an excuse, but…”

She stayed quiet.

“You gotta understand that things are different,” I said. “With us.” I sighed, trying to think of something to say and coming up empty. “Everett would know the perfect thing to say right now,” I said. “It’d be soppy, because he’s a soppy guy, but it’d be the right thing to say.”

“He does have a way with words,” she said. “Things are different and this proves I don’t really get it. I think with the Undersiders this wouldn’t have meant anything.”

“Then what’s the solution?” I asked. “You’re good at coming up with that sort of thing.”

“You as an adviser,” she said. “You know this team better than me. If we’re being honest, you should lead it because you’re more like Everett than I am.”

Which was a lie. Everett was good with people while Taylor was good at missions. It felt like I hadn’t found my niche and I was in both their shadows.

_“They_ like you and I’m there.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I said, but it was sort of true. If it wasn’t training then she didn’t like being around people. There were times we forced things on her, pulled strings that would have us go to the movies together or got her to go to mall with Ava and me. But she hadn’t been all there.

“I’ll tell you what I’m planning and you tell me if it’s something stupid or if it’s going to mean the group falling apart.”

I nodded, looking out into the darkness.

“We’re not going home, are we?” I said.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“No bullshitting,” I said. “I’m not them.”

She nodded. “I really doubt it,” she said. “But it’s even worse on the macro level.”

I let out a breath, bracing myself. “Give it to me.”

“The Bogeyman,” she said. “Her and Cauldron can open portals through realities.”

_“Fuck,”_ I said. “How long have you been holding on to this?”

She shrugged. I sighed a long breath as the implications unravelled. Either they _couldn’t_ which made the made it very unlikely that everyone else would be able to find us, or they didn’t think it was worth it to put resources into find us, even with an ‘always win’ power. The stray thought came that the Protectorate were so swamped that they hadn’t asked Cauldron.

_“Fuck,”_ I said again, feeling as a massive rock hit the pile that already felt like it was wearing me down.

“Fuck,” she said and there was emotion her voice, a break that made me think she was at least human.

“So you’re planning a life here?” I asked.

“Everything I know says I shouldn’t be here,” she said. “It says…I’ll be there when the world ends. We know Jack is gonna start things and he wants Theo, which means _he_ should be there. So that has me thinking…Is this part of winning? Us not being on Earth Bet?”

_“Fuck.”_

“Fuck,” she agreed.

“Everett?”

“He doesn’t seem like he’s thought about it, or maybe he has too much hope,” she said with a shrug.

It felt like I was sinking and yet anchored at the same time, like everything I’d thought was _right_ but that didn’t leave me in place. I controlled my breathing, focusing on a large star in the distance, standing amid a brown-beige streak with other points of light within.

“If he doesn’t know, I don’t want to tell him,” she continued. “Because if he loses hope, that’s it.”

“I see it,” I muttered, feeling more tired because of _this_ than the work we’d put in today, or seeing an army at our doorstep.

She looked at me. “Is it better I don’t tell him?” she asked. “Or should I lay everything out on the table?”

I thought about Kirk and when we’d been alone, how badly he seemed like he was doing; I thought about Ava who’d had a boyfriend in Earth Bet and still she was going out with Theo; about Theo whose mission was Jack Slash and the innocents that would die if he wasn’t found.

How would they react to hearing this?

_As important as it is to look after the others,_ Everett’s voice said in my head. _You should also look after yourself._

How was _I_ really affected by this and was it good? Did I want Everett to feel like I felt?

“We keep it quiet,” I said. “Everett is their pillar right now, he’s the one who has all their hope for getting out of here. If he loses hope, then…”

“Yeah,” she said. “But that means we have to look ahead, thinking bigger than just surviving in the now. People know about us and that means, whether we want to or not, we’re involved.”

“Tell me everything,” I said.

“They think I might be from the North and Kirk is in one of the Free Cities, they mentioned Braavos. The fact you were wearing costumes, though, makes them think Ash-Eye. Not to mention our accents are all wrong.”

“Do you have any idea where those places are?” I asked.

“Braavos is in Essos,” she said. “The North is just north Westeros and Ash-Eye is supposed to be the land of witches and magic.”

“Could be more capes, more triggers?” I said.

“Or nothing,” she said, squashing the glimmer of an ember. “We have to remember when we are. The Salem Witch trials were much later on Earth Bet, but they still happened. This, _now?_ It could just be xenophobia or weird cultural norms. _”_

“But it’s worth checking out, for a way home.”

Taylor didn’t say anything, which was answer enough. She didn’t think it would lead home and to have that hope was futile. As much as Taylor could be annoying, as much as she could push relentlessly, focus on one thing to the exclusion of everything else, it was keeping her together here. She had something she was working towards and the loss of being away from home was easier.

A part of me wished I could have that, that a mental switch could be flicked and I’d feel nothing except focus on the future. But as bad as I sometimes felt, this was better than when I felt burned out, when I’d been pushing so much that nothing was worth doing.

“He wants to increase his standing,” Taylor continued, “and he’s playing different angles to get that. He made a point of sending a letter to Harroway, further west of Fairmarket, hoping to catch the king as he returns from the North, another he sent to Edmure Tully, keeping him in the loop, and he’s also telling his trusted knights to try and court us.”

“What?” I said.

She shrugged. “The people that are in on it are telling to be careful, but they’re all for it. Something about dragons and Targaryens.”

“Fuck all of this,” I said, thinking about Kirk.

_A pit of vipers_ _and it feels like you’re in your element._

“We’ll need to be careful around these people,” I said and the words sounded lame.

_I really need a shift in focus. Because right now I’m too_ stuck _to think right._

£

“We haven’t restocked our supplies, Your Worship,” said Myna. I could see the woman’s eye shift over to Kirk who sat at the table, baby Eddin in his arms. Every time I looked at Myna and Jarack I got the sense they were scared of us, scared of _this_ but I didn’t really want to ask Taylor what they said when they were alone because that would make me a hypocrite.

Instead I was left to guess, watch body language, how they had trouble looking us in the eye when they spoke or how they didn’t really _converse_ with us. Things were easier if Barden and I were talking, but even then, they kept their distance, had to be invited into a conversation and then quickly end it citing something to do.

Likely Myna was scared out of her mind having Kirk look after baby Eddin, but she didn’t want to say anything because this shitty place made her afraid of people who were above her in rank.

“Thankfully the hunts and rationing have meant we haven’t flown through what’s left, but feeding a regimen?”

“Do we have to do this?” I said. “We could just not. You said they brought their own food.”

“The bare essentials,” said Taylor. “They’ve sent someone to restock them, but it’ll be weeks before they get back. Would I be right in assuming that it’s the duty of a host to feed their guests?”

“Yes, Your Worship,” said Myna with a low bow.

“And these feasts are usually lavish?”

Myna gave another nod. “Though for a standing force, less so.”

“I’m thinking it looks bad if we don’t do this. If we let them eat the crap they have instead of making a feast.”

“Okay. Image, I get it,” I said. “But, why the fuck would we play by those rules?” I groaned a little, imagining her grin. “I don’t like it, but Olive was right when she said we have power. If something isn’t smart we can just say screw it.”

“This is a balancing act,” Taylor said. “We have to be scary but not so scary that they feel the only option is acting against us, and they have to find us civilised.”

I snorted, tried to hold it in and I erupted with a laugh that was maybe a bit too loud.

“What’s going on?” said Kirk, looking up, brow quirked.

“This one is afraid our guests won’t find us civilised,” I said.

Kirk smiled. “That’d be ironic as all hell,” he said.

“A compromise, then,” said Taylor. “We invite the nobility in, the people they saw fit to bring into the castle last night.”

I shrugged. “That’ll mean showing them the castle,” I said. “I know it’d be better to eat outside, but I’m not hauling food up.”

“It would be no—”

“Myna,” I said and she stopped at once. “I would _never_ ask you to do something I wouldn’t do myself, and even then, I would be _asking._ If you’re uncomfortable with doing something then say it and none of us will be angry at you.”

I caught her eyes straying over to Kirk but she said nothing, only shifting. My stomach twisted because that was complicated as hell. Kirk was black and his skin was dark to boot, darker than any she’d have been in contact with it. Above and beyond the whole god thing, she’d be scared of him because he was visibly foreign.

It was a warring of two things: Myna’s discomfort of her child being with Kirk; and all the shit Kirk had had to deal with for being black, and how things hadn’t changed even on another world. And _I_ was forced to choose whose feelings I wanted to spare. The woman I didn’t know or my teammate.

I swallowed. “Kirk,” I said. “Can we talk for a bit?” Taylor gave me a look, brow raised. “We’re done, right?”

She nodded. “I’ll start clearing up stuff we need hidden,” she said and walked off.

Kirk handed Eddin to Myna and the woman visibly calmed. Kirk and I found a small room adorned with chairs and tables made of stone, silk pillows with grass in them on the seats. Unfortunately, we hadn’t figured out doors yet.

“What’s going on?” said Kirk, his voice quiet and a smile on him from playing with baby Eddin.

“Myna was uncomfortable when you had her son,” I said.

_Everett would find a way to tackle this better. But I’m not him. Just rip off the band-aid._

“Is it us she’s uncomfortable with or just me?” he asked, his smile having dropped.

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” I said. “You’re the only one who really cares about the kids.” I shrugged.

“Fuck,” he said. “Did she say something?”

“No, but…that’s the problem. They’re scared of us which means we could get away with a lot,” I said. “I’m a little worried that we may unintentionally _be_ getting away with a lot because they don’t speak up.”

“So you don’t really _know_ you’re just guessing?” he said and he managed to make it sound accusing. I stopped, thought back and maybe I was wrong. It wasn’t something I hadn’t been looking at for a long time, just something I noticed and _had_ to deal with.

“Maybe,” I said. “I’m sorry, but…it’s something to think about.”

_“Fuck,”_ he said. He closed his eyes, looking up and controlling his breathing before looking down. He swallowed.

“Kirk,” I started but I didn’t know how to finish. Everett had a thing, active listening, where you didn’t offer solutions but allowed a person to vent. But Kirk wasn’t like that. He was more emotive than Taylor, but both of them had that thing where they spent a lot of time in their own heads.

He shook his head. “It is what it is, I guess,” he said.

“Kirk,” I said but he was already walking away. He stepped into the wall, oozing into it and surging up to the floor above.

_Ev, fucking come back already because you’re the glue that holds this team together._

I caught Theo and Ava coming out of the back-most room, one of the only ones that had a door, heavy and metal, which only Ava and Kirk would be able to get through. They were holding hands, with Ava smiling more than Theo who looked a little forlorn.

I envied them for their faith, their ability to be able to turn to something when the world seemed lacking. Ava didn’t like that we were posing as gods and to assuage herself of those feelings she’d converted one of the rooms into a church, going to pray and coming back looking happier. Now Theo was joining in on that.

_And here I am, being a sad-sack._

_Stop and focus on the team. You want to be leader so start acting like it._

But what did that mean? Maybe pointing people in the right direction?

“Theo,” I said. He gave me a look. “A sec?”

“Sure,” he said.

“See you out there,” said Ava and she left.

We went into the room where I’d messed things up with Kirk and a part of me was unsettled. What if I fucked this up too?

We sat.

“Yeah?” he said and he sounded a little nervous.

“How are things?” I asked. First step, right? Getting him to open up.

He shrugged. “Okay, I guess,” he said. He looked down then at me. “Is this about Ava and me?”

I shook my head. “You and Ava seem happy together.”

“Yeah,” he said and then there was silence.

_This isn’t working, Ev. What do I do now? What do I say?_

It was hard to think through because it didn’t feel like me. Then what does? I reached and didn’t know.

“Could you do me a favour?” I said. “Kirk. I said something and it might be bad.”

Theo nodded. “What about everything with Taylor?” he said. “Are you two okay, now?”

“Yeah, I think,” I said.

“Good,” he said. He stood. “I’ll keep an eye on Kirk.”

_Fuck that was bad._

“Barden,” I said as I passed through the common area. It was simpler dealing with him because he seemed simple, as bad as it sounded. He was talking with his dad but the moment I spoke he was up, all of his attention mine. “Training in a few minutes before breakfast.”

He smiled and it wasn’t a bad smile. He wasn’t the most handsome boy I’d seen, definitely not my type. But there was something I liked about how not-complicated he was.

£

“It is not often that we see women warriors,” said Ser Gerrard. He was tall and _pretty,_ brown-blond hair that fell to his shoulders, curly and shiny; he wore light armour with a short cape that was red and black, engravings of birds in his armour, and a sword with an intricately carved hilt. “And to hear that you are a Warrior Goddess? It is incredible.”

He smiled and even that wasn’t bad looking, his teeth were better than Barden’s.

I turned a little, seeing Barden who walked a little behind us and who wore the most murderous of expressions. Breakfast had gone without incident. Taylor had invited Lord Blackwood and six of his people to dine with us and the Lord had changed things up, inviting good looking knights and Maester Wynne to breakfast with him.

Lord Blackwood had only had eyes for Taylor, but Taylor had only had eyes for Maester Wynne, wanting to know more about the maester since the man had passingly mention that his was an order of scholars. Ser Gerrard had invited me for a walk around the property after breakfast was done and Barden had come to serve as my guard.

“It isn’t so incredible where I’m from,” I said with a shrug. Taylor usually talked like them, but I didn’t think I could do it without slipping back. Better to just be me.

“The godly world,” he said.

I nodded, giving him a look. Was this where he’d ask more about the godly world like Taylor had heard, getting as much information as he could to get a sense of where we were really from, or was this where he tried to get me to fall head-over-heels in love with him?

“Is must be a wondrous place,” he said.

“It is,” I said with a smile. “Your hair,” I said. “What do you wash it with?”

“Excuse me, my lady?” he said, his smile disappearing and confusion taking its place.

“Cuff,” I said. “One of the things she’s missed about our world is taking care of her hair. Your hair is pretty nice. I think she’d feel betrayed if I didn’t ask you how you managed yours.”

He blinked and then smiled. “Bacon fat and lizard,” he said. “And it’s easy enough to take away the scent of bacon with rosewater, cloves and nutmeg. The sheen, though, is using some exotic oils imported from Pentos. Perhaps if you were to visit Raventree Hall, I could gift you some for Lady Cuff.”

I smiled, letting out a breath. “Smooth,” I said.

“Smooth, my lady?”

“Something said by others of my kind,” I said. “When someone plays at…courtship and does something that should have a guy or girl swoon, you call it smooth.”

“Your people sound…brash, no offence meant, of course,” he said.

“None taken,” I said with a shrug.

Silence spread, to the point where it _must_ have been getting uncomfortable for him. I turned to look at Barden and he was trying to keep a smile down. The knight wasn’t used to _this,_ a woman who didn’t play by the social norms of this place and it put him off-kilter. Now he was having to rethink his approach.

“Would you like to go on a hunt, my lady?” Ser Gerard said after a long few moments. He was smiling now, expectant.

“I’m not a hunter,” I said.

“Then I could teach you,” he said. “I’m quite good with a bow and arrow, my preferred method of hunting.”

Taylor was usually the one who hunted, _cheated_ by using bugs. But with how long trips took and the possibility that she might leave or I might leave and be forced to hunt, it wouldn’t be a bad skill to have.

“I’d like that,” I said.

His smile was brighter. “I only have to go to camp to fetch bows and arrows,” he said. “I’ll have to teach you to shoot a bow, first, but it isn’t especially hard to learn.”

I nodded. “Please do,” I said. “And one for Barden too,” I added when he’d finished excusing himself. Gerard looked a little crestfallen by that, but he went off, nonetheless.

“You think he’s handsome,” said Barden when Gerard was a distance away, taking long strides towards the door.

“He _is_ handsome,” I said.

Barden’s mouth was a line. “And he’s a knight,” he said. “That must appeal more than a farmer’s boy, even if they’re god-kin.”

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s get one thing straight, right off the bat—”

“Off the bat?” he said. I liked the interruption because it was progress, it had been so hard to work past that when we’d first been training. Barden was livelier than his parents, but he still acted like a farmer, kept his head down if it looked like he could get killed.

“From the start, the off-set, whatever,” I said. _“He_ isn’t better than you just because he’s a knight. At least not to me, and not to the others. I’ve told you how things are back home.”

“The smallfolk are no less important than the most rulers of your world,” he said. “Or at least they _shouldn’t_ be.”

“Yeah,” I said. “So that means I’m not gonna like him anymore than you because he’s a knight. But that also doesn’t mean I won’t like the next guy any less than you because you have powers like us…”

I stopped, he was smiling like a dope.

“What?” I said.

“You like me,” he said. “You said it.”

I frowned. “I don’t think I did,” I said.

“You keep denying this attraction between us,” he said. “When it’s the most natural thing in the world. I’ve seen you looking at me when I’m not wearing a shirt.”

He grinned at that because my face felt hot.

“You’re easy on the eyes, Barden,” I said, turning away. “That’s all this is.” I walked and he followed.

“Is he easy on the eyes too?” he said.

“He’s not bad to look at,” I said with a shrug.

“What if I said Goddess Cuff wasn’t bad to look at?” he said.

I snorted. “Are you trying to make me jealous?”

“She does look good, though,” he said. “The fair hair and how she frames it, the way she dresses in elaborate silks.”

I punched him in the arm and it might have been a bit too hard because he let his arm disappear and let it come back. It didn’t do anything for the pain except stall it.

“Is my goddess jealous?” he said and he managed to make his voice sound husky. Pushing when before he would have pulled away. “Smooth, wasn’t I?”

I said nothing, walking and enjoying the day, watching as puffy white clouds moved serenely across the sky. Barden stuck close without brushing against my arm, but as we walked, it inevitably happened.

Gerard returned, breaking the moment.

£

“Far too close, my lady,” said Maester Wynne. He was an old man, heavily wrinkled and with tufts of hair on his head. Even so he had keen brown eyes and he seemed to look at everything with a child-like vigour. _“Far_ too close. The objective of the walls is to keep invading forces out. With how close these walls will be to the keep itself, they need only breach the walls to quickly gain access to your keep.”

“We could build another wall,” said Taylor. We were eating breakfast and unlike when the week had started, getting up to dress in fancy clothing had gotten old. We’d lost the facade of nobles and instead gone back to our hodgepodge clothes.

I was wearing a wife-beater, thank god, because this place was hot. Because of how we’d designed things, cramped rooms with walls making divisions between rooms, that we hadn’t separated the kitchen with the dining area, and that the kitchen always had a fire lit—not to mention the torches we still used for light (castles were _really_ dark)—and it could be sweltering down here.

The knights and Lord Blackwood were making a point not to stare now because Taylor had bitten them with bugs every time they’d stared a little too long. I appreciated it, honestly, because I didn’t like being stared at, nor did I want to deal with the hassle that taking a bath could be.

Taylor was sitting beside Maester Wynne, the two of them staring down at a sketch the maester had drawn of a new castle design.

“And the _gate,”_ said Maester Wynne.

“What’s wrong with my gate?” said Theo.

“Forgive me, my lord—”

“You don’t have to call me that,” he said. “Theo’s fine.”

“Of course, Master—”

_“Just_ Theo. _Please,”_ he said.

“Um…Theo,” said Maester Wynne. “Well…I think it says something my… _Theo_ that you haven’t opened them once since we got here. That instead you use a small gate and form a bridge every morning, closing it every night. All of it is wondrous, _absolutely_ wondrous. But it’s impractical. What if Lord Annex weren’t here? What would happen then?”

“He _is_ right, though,” said Ava. “Since Romp’s gone we haven’t opened the gate.”

I thought back and didn’t think we’d ever mentioned the others. I took a glance at Maester Wynne and his brow was quirked up. 

“Romp is another of our companions,” said Taylor, her voice even. “Hers is a power that can make the hands come alive.”

“I suppose…that…would make things easier,” said Maester Wynne. He gave Lord Blackwood a glance but the man was eating his breakfast as though he hadn’t heard. Ava, I noticed was sitting deathly still, her hand under the table; Theo’s would no doubt be linked with hers.

“But it still doesn’t help the practicality,” Maester Wynne continued. “Only one person can open the gates which means that the person will be stuck here. Not to mention that fingers are quite easy to climb.”

“What I’m getting,” said Kirk. “Is that we should tear it down and start all over again.”

“Yes, unfortunately,” said Maester Wynne. “I’d also suggest making the gate recessed and that the wall have crenelated parapets, preferable large enough to—” He stopped because Kirk had a hand up.

“I’m going to be doing most of these things, can I see pictures?” he said. “You’re shooting words at me I don’t know.”

“Of course. Of course,” said Maester Wynne. Kirk moved to sit next to the man as he shuffled the papers around, showing a drawing of exterior walls. “You’ll also need towers. If people try to scale the walls then you need towers to fire sideways.”

Kirk whistled. “This is amazing,” he said. “A part of me wants to see how you would have designed the interior, you know? I don’t like the feel of just squares.”

“The pillars are a nice touch, though, my lord,” said Maester Wynne. “How they seem to hold up the walls is incredible.”

“Shut up,” said Kirk, still looking at the page.

Maester Wynne recoiled, his face going pale. “I’m sorry, my lord. I didn’t mean—”

“Not you, _him,”_ said Kirk looking up and scowling at Theo who wore a massive smile.

“Theo made the pillars,” said Ava, smiling. “Kirk only smoothed them out.”

“And fortified them,” said Kirk. “Made sure Theo’s knobby fingers looked…sexier.”

Theo stabbed his finger into the table and it shot out, hitting Kirk in the chest and having him fall back. Instead of slamming into the ground, Kirk’s back stretched then splashed into the ground, the rest of him following. He oozed up into the table, evening it out and then oozed out.

It was a double-edged sword from Taylor’s intel. If we acted our age, which they thought was too child-like, then the glamour of being gods started to lose some effect, but it also increased the paranoia we might be acting like this because we’d judged them too weak to actually do anything against us. Playing with powers also helped us, made them think that there was a lot more we were hiding.

Breakfast continued without fanfare after that, ending with Maester Wynne inviting Kirk to look at more of his sketches in his tent. Kirk agreed and Theo followed behind him.

“My lady,” said Gerard. “I wonder if I might invite you back. I have something for you.”

I nodded with a last glance and Barden.

“What is it?” I asked.

“A surprise,” he said. “I bid you have patience, my lady.”

I grabbed a shirt and shrugged it on before going up, spending a few seconds basking in the slivers of the sun before it moved on under heavy cloud cover. I could see dark clouds in the distance and I could smell rain approaching.

Ser Gerard led me to the targets we practised archery in and he reached down, pulling out a basket wrapped in patterned silk. He was smiling as he said, “I had a squire ride out when we first spoke, down to Fairmarket.”

I took the basket, unravelling the silk and seeing supplies inside. A comb and other supplies in boxes and metal bottles.

“Your gift for Lady Cuff,” he said. “And the scarf is for you. I know you are no stranger to silk, but I hope the colour will appeal to you.”

“Thank you,” I said because even if I wasn’t didn’t know a lot about how expensive things were here, I knew that imports could be expensive.

Ser Gerard was smiling. “I should get back to the others,” he said. “Ensure I miss nothing of import.”

“Sure. Bye,” I said. I went back downstairs and the others were cleaning up, offering Myna some rest because she was taking care of Eddin. Jarack and Barden were fetching some water in our well. 

“What’s the box?” said Ava.

“Stuff to wash your hair,” I said.

_“My_ hair?” she said.

“I jokingly mentioned to Gerard that his hair was pretty and you’d like some stuff. He actually went to have someone buy it,” I said.

Ava came closer and even Taylor did, looking at the stuff.

“You know about to use this stuff?” said Ava.

I shook my head. “Can I get in on this?” Taylor asked. “My hair’s been feeling dry.”

“Sure, yeah,” said Ava. She was smiling. “Wow. He must _really_ like you.”

“It’s been a week and he’s already buying me imported shit,” I said. “That’s fucking _terrifying.”_

“He wants to marry you,” said Taylor.

“Which is the terrifying part,” I said. “What do I do if he asks?”

“Say no,” said Taylor with a frown.

“Unless you don’t want to,” said Ava with a big smile.

“I’m not even eighteen!” I said. Eddin started crying and Myna directed a scowl at us. I felt a bit of happiness at that. She said something to Arina who was collecting peels from the veggies to throw them out. “I’m not even eighteen,” I whispered.

“Different times,” said Taylor.

“Still skeevy,” said Ava.

“Which it is,” Taylor added.

“Of course,” said Ava. “Maybe you like the attention, two suitors after you, one a gallant knight, the other a humble farmer.”

“I don’t like Gerard,” I said.

_“Gerard,”_ said Ava.

“Shut up, you,” I said and sighed. I took them both by the arms and pulled them away from the dining area. I looked around.

“He’s not close,” said Taylor.

“Okay,” I said, taking a breath and letting it out. “I like him.”

“Gerard?” said Ava.

“No. Barden,” I said. “He’s taking it too seriously, but I just want a cuddle buddy. I want _him_ as a cuddle buddy.”

“You could just tell him that,” said Taylor.

“Geez,” I said. “You think?”

Taylor opened her mouth and closed it, the shrugged. “I don’t know what you want.”

“I want…I don’t know what I want honestly,” I said. “But I don’t want complicated.”

“Oh, I get it,” said Ava, smiling. “Little Miss Badass is scared and she’s probably making excuses.”

“Am not.”

“Then why did you think you’d have to marry Gerard?” she asked.

_Because I’m trying to think like Taylor, remembering every political show I watched and I feel like marriage makes the most sense. Because if I do get married then it means more protection than just sitting in a castle that now looks like it isn’t all that defensive and a good catapult could bowl us over with rocks. Because…all of these things are stupid and I didn’t know them before and I’m just making excuses, aren’t I?_

I sighed.

“If it helps any, you fought Behemoth and survived,” said Taylor.

I frowned, gaping for a second before I said, “You know, that explains a lot of things about you.” She moved to ask but I shook my head. “Advice. How do I do this? How did you guys do it? You and Theo, and you and Grue?”

Ava blushed. “I just asked if I could hold his hand a lot when we were alone,” she said. “It was awkward at first, sweaty palms, and then we started talking.” She shrugged at the end.

Not useful at _all._

“Taylor?”

She didn’t blush but she shook her head. “It’s too personal,” she said.

“Come on,” she said.

“We sort of got together during the Nine’s visit,” she said and I stopped. “So that should tell you something.”

“Um…wow,” said Ava.

_“Fuck,”_ I said. “Sorry—”

“It’s fine,” she said and her voice was tight.

I sighed. “Guess it’s the Ava approach,” I said. When Barden got back with the water I asked to walk with him outside. When we were outside I asked, “Can I hold your hand?”

“Yes,” he said without even thinking. His hand was rough and calloused, but it was warm and it made my heart beat a little faster and it was distracting in a good way.

Did I see myself with him in ten years, no, but right now I didn’t think I minded his company.

£

“The king’s riding to King’s Landing,” said Taylor, starting off our nightly meetings. We sat in chairs around a round table, everyone grim faced. We’d been waiting for anything to do with the king since Lord Blackwood had sent the letter to him and Lord Edmure, and hearing this I wasn’t too sure.

“Is that bad?” I asked, but a bad feeling was settling in my gut and I wasn’t the only one.  Ava was spooked, Theo grim and Kirk just looked tired again after having found a spot where he was smiling again.

“Blackwood expected a letter back,” said Taylor, “and he hasn’t gotten one. He also expected one from Edmure, but he also didn’t get one, which has had him worried, especially since Katherine and Barden are a thing.”

_Fuck me. It’s what I thought, isn’t it?_

“How do those two things connect?” said Kirk.

“Gerard’s been trying to court me,” I said. “I’ve been playing along, but sort of eased now.”

“Because of you and Barden,” he said. I nodded, trying to read him and seeing more resignation. Did he like me? That wasn’t the vibe I got off him.

“Blackwood’s trying to play a political game,” Taylor said, bringing it back. “Three moves for separate advantages. He wants to increase his standing, look better than House Tully by successfully brokering a deal that means we’re a _part_ of the kingdom. He’s only said it twice, but he’s also hoping, since Edmure Tully seems soft, he might be the ruler of the Riverlands. Failing that, he wants a greater influence with Edmure, if he cinched this deal, they might have been friends and he might increase his lands. The last play, the one that’s failed now, is trying to marry into us. He doesn’t have woman at camp so he’s been playing to Katherine and me. He also tried out Ser Merwyn on you,” she said to Kirk, “but he quickly saw that didn’t take.”

Kirk frowned. “Which one was Merwyn?”

“The one with the jaw that could break rock,” I said.

“And the beautiful blue eyes,” Ava added.

“But none of those things worked,” said Theo, ignoring a smirking Ava.

“Lord Edmure’s been quiet,” Taylor continued. “Then Blackwood hears that the king’s ridden south, not even stopping in Harrenhal—which is on the way to King’s Landing. Blackwood seems worried.”

“I still don’t get if this is bad or not,” said Ava. “Maybe _how_ it’s bad?”

“Because I’m still not sure,” said Taylor. “Blackwood keeps talking about Targaryens and dragons, but today he mentioned shifting warfare—”

“I think that’s because dragons are real here,” said Kirk and he shrugged.

“I’m sorry to say this, but I’ve heard that too and I don’t trust it,” said Taylor. Kirk frowned. “It feels like the sort of thing that might be a metaphor. I want to ask Maester Wynne, but I’m afraid it might be giving away that I’m listening to them.”

“Trust me,” I said. I thought back to us and how I’d _known_ she listened through her bugs but hadn’t ever thought about her bugging us. A part of me was still on the lookout for that, watching for clusters of bugs she might be spying with. But if she was, she was doing a good job of hiding the stuff she gleaned. “It’s not an easy jump off point to think that you’re always listening. People aren’t that suspicious.”

She nodded. “Blackwood sent a raven to Edmure, telling him that his troops want to return to their families and that if he doesn’t get word back, he’ll be heading home. I’ll have to ask the maester tomorrow about the dragons business.”

And she did.

“Maester Wynne,” she said. “I have something of a question as it relates to this world. Dragons, are they real?”

Maester Wynne frowned. “Are they not in the godly-realm?” he asked. As Taylor had explained it, Maester Wynne was starting to think more and more that we were from another country if not another world. She’d heard him detailing accents and what they meant in terms of geography, and the fact that Taylor and Theo had similar accents that differed from the rest of us.

She’d also said her act wasn’t working, that even trying to mimic how they spoke, they still thought Theo had the fancier accent. She’d thought about stopping, but I’d gleefully pointed out that then they would know she was listening and she had to continue even if they were talking about her behind her back. Of course, this being Taylor, she didn’t even have the decency to be fazed by it.

“No,” she said. “There were lizards and birds that ruled the world millions of years past, we called them dinosaurs, some small as mice, others larger than elephants. A great rock fell from the skies in their prime, washing the land over darkness and burning rain, killing most of them. The smallest survived and they would grow into us as millions of years passed.”

“Quite intriguing,” he said. “I’ve heard it said there are animals just like that in the jungles of Sothoryos. Feathered lizards with bulbous bodies, long limbs with scythe like fingers and squat tails.”

“That sounds like a dinosaur,” said Kirk.

Maester Wynne shared a look with Blackwood.

“But none were dragons,” Taylor said.

“Dragons are real,” he said. “They’ve gone extinct now, at least as much as we know, though there are rumours that they still live in the Shadow Lands.”

“How do you know they’re real?” Taylor asked. “Apologies if it seems rude, but from my perspective this seems to be an exceptional claim.”

“Not at all, my lady,” said Maester Wynne, his eyes lighting up. “You say that your _dinosaurs—_ did I say it correctly?”

Taylor nodded absently.

“You say that _they_ had been extinct for millions of years, so how do you know for sure that they existed?”

“Bones,” said Taylor. “Sects of our people searched ancient sites of civilisation for artefacts of days past. Some bones, not human and not animals that we know, appeared. If we’re lucky, enough are found that form an image.”

I smiled to myself thinking what Maester Wynne would be thinking right now.

“It is the same here, but we are saved from having to dig up these bones,” said Maester Wynne. “In the Red Keep lies a room that holds the bones of dragons that belonged to the Targaryens. Some _skulls_ are as large as this room, but they get smaller and smaller as time has gone on, until the last of them were no bigger than dogs.”

“How did they die out?” I asked.

“In-breeding,” said Maester Wynne. “First it was the move of the Targaryens from Old Valyria into Westeros. They had three dragons then, and this is only a claim, but it’s very likely they came from different families. These dragons birthed the next generation and the next and the next, but there was war and the numbers of dragons dropped vastly, meaning dragons born by the same mother bred together. This meant smaller dragons, twisted and bent, not to mention that whatever ‘magic’ the Targaryens were using to hatch their dragon started to fade.”

Taylor caught my eyes just as the realisation came to me, in the story the maester was telling and Lord Blackwood’s words. The Targaryens had been foreigners at first, coming from a foreign land with flying, fire breathing dragons. But the Targaryens had ended up kings of Westeros and it made sense that this would be true because they’d changed warfare.

People had moved from fighting with regular weapons, knowing only tactics to fight other men, then they’d been forced to fight flying monsters that could breathe _fire._

Fuck, I thought, because I understood in part why it was bad that the king had ridden south to his castle instead of coming here or making us meet him anywhere close. In King’s Landing he would have the security of his army, the security of numbers even if he wasn’t sure about our powers or how warfare had changed because of us. He would have the time to take in our powers, think up countermeasures and be better able to fight us.

Very likely, the king saw us as the next Targaryens and he thought we were going to take his throne. He’d want to protect himself either through making friends or snuffing us out, and as good as making friends could be, there was always the possibility of betrayal. He might see snuffing us out as the easier option.

Three days later Blackwood got a letter from the king to invite us to King’s Landing, which just cemented my feeling that things would only turn out badly for us.


	3. Chapter 3

**Weaver**

****

_“Kevan,”_ the guy said. Sixteen or seventeen, a youth by his tone and how he held himself. “We shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh, grow some balls,” said Kevan. He was taller and bigger than his friend, both dressed in similar armour, not the expensive kind knights wore, but the bare essentials to make sure they weren’t killed quickly in battle. Both wore helmets that had a lot of dents and carried unadorned swords.

“But this is the god’s wood,” said the other.

_“Brynden,”_ Kevan said and he sighed, turning to face his friend.

The two were the perimeter guard, patrolling for enemies that came in the night. The order hadn’t come from Blackwood but one of his generals, a man known for his love of showing his power even if it served no purpose. So it was that the perimeter guard slacked off and the supervisors hadn’t cared until the entire watch was as good as non-existent.

“There’s _honey_ not far from here,” he said. “Droves of bees working even in the night, do you hear them?”

_“Weaver’s_ bugs,” said Brynden. “You’ve heard the rumours, that she can become them.”

Kevan snorted. “Just rumour, that,” he said. “We’ve been here almost two weeks and have you seen _anything_ like that?”

“No, but Ser Mi—”

“We haven’t even seen any magic,” Kevan interrupted.

“We’ve seen the bugs you idiot!” said Brynden. “How they carry flower petals to the castle. How do you explain that?”

“Guess I must be a god too,” said Kevan, mirth in his tone, “because I fuckin’ manage to make bugs come and live in my shitter.” Brynden scowled. “Listen,” he said. “My brother Barret, he spent some time in Oldtown with the maester, you remember I told you?” Brynden nodded. “Well, you know what they taught him? _Scepticism._ You gotta ask questions, right? Like…how does that work? Not just jump to magic.”

“Lord Blackwood believes,” said Brynden.

“But Lord Blackwood also believes in the Old Gods instead of the Seven, so…” Kevan shrugged. “Now let’s go,” he said. “I’m tired of eating the slop that Dorin and them cook up. I want something sweeter.”

They moved through the trees with careful steps, heading towards the buzzing of bees. They reached a hive and stopped, the sound of the buzzing now louder, bees leaving and others coming in. It was dark and they shouldn’t have been able to see but the bugs moved with a preternatural awareness. A bit above a tree there was a web with a fat squirrel caught within, dark shapes finding holes in the squirrel’s belly and going in to feast.

“Go on, then,” said Kevan.

“The Stranger take you,” said Brynden. _“You_ want this, I’m not gonna get myself stung.”

“Come on,” said Kevan. “I heard bees don’t sting at night.”

“Then _you_ do it,” said Brynden. Kevan sighed and stepped slowly forward, pulling out his sword. “What are you gonna do? Hack it?”

“Shhh!”

“You scared the bees will hear you?” Brynden said, a chuckle in his tone.

**“Not them,”** the wood said and both stopped. Shadows moved and a shape formed, bees and flies and gnats coming together to form a person. More bugs came in and the person became more defined, hair that fell to her shoulders, made entirely of bugs and yet moving with the wind; thin arms and legs, making her unnaturally tall; and a face with no eyes or a nose. A mouth formed and it was a circular maw that dominated the whole face.

“Goddess!” said Brynden and he fell to his knees. “Apologies, for—”

**“Silence.”**

Silence descended, so stifling for even the bees and crickets had silenced, finally going to sleep.

**“You sought to steal from me.”**

“Apologies, Goddess,” said Brynden. He glanced at Kevan and the man was still on his feet, standing ramrod straight and watching Goddess Weaver. More bugs were coming in, filling her up and making her larger, causing her to _loom_ over them. “We—”

**“Sought to steal from me.”**

Brynden went silent, looking to Kevan again. “Y—yes, Goddess,” he said, voice warbling. He bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Goddess. It was stupid, and—and—”

**“All has a price. For a crime committed, there is to be punishment.”**

Kevan turned, started to run and dropped, hitting the ground hard, his sword falling further away than it should have. Goddess Weaver broke, becoming smaller but dividing into two. One stayed in front of Brynden while the other moved to Kevan. Kevan turned, clambering back. He tried to move his legs, pulling them apart but magic held them together, keeping them from going too far apart. He opened his mouth to scream but Goddess Weaver’s hand broke, flying forward and covering his mouth, another forming. Kevan shut his mouth before bugs could fly in. Brynden was stuck on his knees, the salty smell of tears permeating the air around his face.

**“Tell me of the Targaryens and their dragons. How they came to Westeros. You tell me this and your crime will be forgiven.”**

Brynden nodded. “Of course, Goddess,” he said, his voice coming out strangled, his breathing harsh. “They—they—they came on dragons and they settled on Dragonstone…”

⸸

I listened to Brynden as he talked, my mind running on full steam.

It was going to rain tonight; my bugs could feel it and their natural impulse was to hide. I was pulling them in, hiding them in dark corners, protection from what might be heavy rainfall. There were bugs in the tents, clustered so I could listen in on conversations, but there were so many of them and most of them boring, that I’d started pulling back my attention.

Now, I sat in one seat at the round table, watching the others as they fidgeted.

“This is bad, isn’t it?” said Ava.

“Feels like everything is starting to be,” Kirk muttered.

“Chins up,” said Katherine. “We can get through this.”

“Get through it until when?” said Kirk. “Until the Protectorate gets here?”

“That’s the hope,” said Katherine and her eyes strayed in my direction, holding the gaze.

“But until then we don’t die,” I said.

_“…used Valyrian magic to build their castle in a day,”_ Brynden was saying. _“Making it of a dark stone warped by dragon fire to be like no other. So sharp it could take your hand, yet so brittle that a good hit could break it.”_

“Deal with it _how?”_ said Kirk. “A _king_ invited us and we all know it’s not an invite, it’s an _order.”_

“We could just not go,” said Ava. “Right?” Her eyes didn’t settle as they looked at me, then quickly moved to Theo. “Stay here, and—”

“Then he’ll come here and fucking kill us with an army,” said Kirk.

“Kirk, maybe calm down?” said Katherine.

Kirk closed his eyes, letting out a long breath. When he opened them he shifted, starting to stand.

“Not now,” I said. He stopped and his face scrunched, wanting to lash out but holding back. All of us had our ways to deal with things and Kirk’s was to get away from everyone, get some distance to think. He was stressed right now and likely wanted nothing more, but I couldn’t give that to him, at least not now. Unfortunately, there was business to deal with.

_“Their castle done they moved to the mainland, building a castle where now stands King’s Landing. The land was in dispute, there were seven kingdoms then, a king for each and however many were in the Riverlands back then. All of it meant no one did anything about the Targaryens. They stretched out, quickly taking keeps and holdfasts, gathering allies. By the time the kings decided to act it was too late…”_

“I think it’s too much of a risk to go,” I said.

“But Kirk’s right, if we don’t go it’s war,” said Katherine.

I nodded.

“War?” said Ava. She looked at Kirk, then moved to us. “That…can’t be right. Can it? You were just kidding,” she said  to Kirk.

“Shifting warfare,” said Katherine. “The Targaryens came on dragons and things had to change. They had to fight differently. We’ve come and we have powers, we’ve changed how they have to fight again. How do you deal with someone whose power you don’t know?”

“Swamp them with as many attacks as you can, then refine your approach as you learn more,” I said and Katherine nodded.

“But he could just want to talk,” said Ava. “He could just want to meet us like you say he told Blackwood.”

Except that wasn’t how Blackwood was reacting. He’d responded by sending three ravens to three castles, from each asking if the king had asked that bannermen be called. It would be a few days before the ravens would return and I had the sense that it was only after he’d gotten letters of reply that he’d tell us about the king’s invitation.

“But what if he doesn’t?” I asked. “Are we willing to risk it?”

A moment ago, she hadn’t wanted us to go, but now she wanted us to. I had to stop and try to consider it from her perspective. At first the invitation had been the most dangerous prospect, getting out of our comfort zone and going somewhere we didn’t know. But now this was also dangerous, an army could be sent to us, so maybe she was trying to bend the world so that it felt like a fight wouldn’t happen?

I couldn’t help but feel sorry for Ava. She wasn’t a fighter, but her powers meant she had to be up close and personal in fights. She didn’t have the option that Kirk had, where he could stay in reserve and come in when stuff needed fixing post-battle, but she also wanted to be a hero. 

“When the alternative is war?” said Theo, voice quiet and looking around. “We _should,_ shouldn’t we?”

“I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t want to die,” said Kirk.

_“Probably_ die,” said Theo. “We’re not sure about that.”

“But we can balance probabilities,” I put in. “Look at the context.”

“Context that you can use to get what you want,” said Ava. “We talked to _these_ people and they didn’t try to hurt us. You were wrong there.”

“Because they don’t have the forces and that’s not why they’re here,” I said. “They’re here to check on this rumour, but beyond that they don’t really know how to deal with things. They got here and they fumbled, they thought they could threaten us by bringing a small army and when they saw that it didn’t work, that our ‘magic’ would be hard to deal with. They started making concessions, giving us land and food, wanting to marry in.”

 “It feels a lot like you already have plan you want to do and you’re trying to convince us to do it too,” said Ava. “Not willing to change your mind.”

“Ease up,” said Katherine to Ava. “Attack the argument not the person.”

Ava crossed her arms, Theo looked far off and Kirk looked like he wanted to be anywhere other than here.

“You think we shouldn’t go too,” said Kirk.

Katherine took a breath. “I think that we’re a team with a lot of shakers,” she said. “That we _all_ know the importance of setting up the field, of home ground advantages. If we go to King’s Landing, we won’t have that anymore.”

“But we also won’t open up this place up to war,” said Theo. “The king comes here with an army and we’ll have to hit back, he gets in more people and we’re forced to hurt more people.”

“The alternative is dying _,”_ said Kirk.

_“Possibly,”_ Ava added. “We don’t know _anything_ about the king and what he’s thinking. He could be a good guy.”

“He’s a _drunk,”_ said Kirk. “Or are we forgetting the stories we’ve heard in Fairmarket.”

“Stories that could be exaggerations,” Ava said. “There aren’t phones here, no internet. All stories are a game of telephone and you know how that came mess up a message.”

“That’s just wishful thinking and you know it,” said Kirk.

**“Good,”** I said as Brynden finished his tale, focusing focusing more on him than the teamthat felt like it was falling apart.

There was a lot to sort through because I had the natural inclination to discount a lot of the things he attributed to magic. I trusted Maester Wynne more than I trusted this guy and the maester seemed to have an aversion to magic as a concept, wanting to understand how we _really_ worked instead of the facade we were putting up.

The bug clone turned to Kevan.

**“Now tell me of King Robert,”** I said.

“…do matters,” Theo was saying. Kirk had his arms crossed and his mouth closed like he wanted to say more. Ava looked upset and Katherine seemed tired. “Whether we like it or not. Bad people are the types that forget that, forget the consequences of their actions. But we’re not, we’re _heroes_ and that should mean putting ourselves up for the possibility of danger if it can save people.”

“If they don’t die of dysentery,” Kirk muttered.

“Let’s stop,” I said.

Cracks had formed in the group and I’d missed them while looking out. Now there was pressure and the cracks were only getting wider. Part of it was that we didn’t have much freedom, there was an army camped at our doorstep and we couldn’t go out as we had before.

“We’re not getting anywhere tonight and there’s still a bit of time before Blackwood comes to us with news.”

“What did he say?” said Katherine.

“He sent letters to other lords in the Riverlands asking if bannermen have been called.” 

“Bannermen are the forces of lords,” said Katherine explained. “Knights, grunts and farmhands who’ve been trained to pick up swords if it’s needed.”

“I’m thinking, two, three days before Blackwood gives us the letter,” I said, “and even then, he might couch  how he tells us things. The first thing the Targaryens did when they got to Westeros was make allies, they used boarder disputes and their superior fire-power to get people on their side. I think Blackwood might think this is the smarter move.”

“Is he saying that?” Katherine asked.

“No,” I said and I held my breath because this would be the complicated part. Katherine hadn’t liked me listening in on conversation even though it made sense. She hadn’t held it against me that I hadn’t stopped listening in on Blackwood and his camp, but I didn’t know if she’d be okay with _this,_ especially with the cracks I was seeing between everyone else.

Kevan was catatonic on the ground, the smell of urine permeating the air around him. I’d asked him to tell me about King Robert and he hadn’t been able to, only starring up into the bug clone that stood over him. Brynden had picked up, mostly telling me about King Robert’s rebellion against the Mad King.

“I’m asking their patrolmen,” I said. We’d said we’d talk it out and even if it would be better to keep this quiet, work in the background, things would be more complicated if she found out in the future.

“By which you mean _scaring_ them,” said Katherine and I couldn’t quite read her tone.

“Yes,” I said.

She took a long deep breath, held in and let it out in a rush. I noticed that the atmosphere in the room was terse, the others looking between Katherine and me.

“Did you hurt them?” she asked.

“No,” I said. “They were trying to steal honey. I told them that as punishment for their crimes they should tell me about the Targaryens coming to Westeros and now they’re telling me about Robert’s rebellion.”

“And won’t they just tell their lord that you asked about this?” she asked.

“I’m going to scare them more,” I said.

Kirk snorted, one hand wiping his face, the smile on his face wasn’t a happy one, just magnifying how tired he seemed.

“I think…” said Katherine. “We should wait for Everett to get back.”

“Yes!” said Ava.

“We don’t know if we’ll have the time,” I said.

“We’re gods,” said Katherine.

“Except not, but we’re _acting_ like we are,” said Ava cut in.

“We can push for time even it’s worse off. I’m just thinking…we need another set of eyes. You’re good at scaring people and you’re good at being scary, but I think you sometimes miss that scared people can do a lot of messed up shit.”

“My father said,” Theo started and he stopped. With those words his posture hunched, his face becoming harder. It was easy to forget sometimes he was Kaiser’s kid, that he’d grown up in that type of environment. He seemed a polar opposite of what I’d seen with Kaiser.

“He said that fear is a fire. If you stoke it right you get warmth, you can cook with it. But if you give it too much air or don’t keep an eye on it, then you won’t be able to control it and it could burn you too. I…I read about Brockton Bay, what people said about you and…when you use fear it’s no holds barred. You just attack and you hope that people will back down. But what if they don’t? What about then?”

“Everett is a gentler hand,” said Katherine with a nod, eyes on me. “I think you and me are the same. I don’t want to go there either because it’s fucking crazy. I’m willing to stand our ground here if it comes to it, but…is that good for everyone else?”

“It really isn’t,” said Ava. “War isn’t good for anything.”

“Except maybe the civil war for slaves,” Kirk muttered.

“Okay,” I said. “We’re breaking this up. Kirk, go clear your head.”

There was relief as he got up and he walked into the wall, oozing up to the floor above. Theo was looking after him while Ava looked conflicted and I could see that Katherine wanted to follow Kirk.

“Kirk’s always better after he’s had time on his own,” I said.

“But should he, when we’re not sure what’s going to happen?” said Katherine.

“I’m keeping track,” I said. “Let’s give him his time, see how things play out.”

“Is this over?” said Ava. “I…”

“You can leave,” I said.

“But you’ll be talking after I leave?”

I looked at Katherine and she nodded, Theo nodded too. Ava looked at him and she looked stuck between staying and leaving

“You don’t have to stay,” he said. “I’ll keep you updated.”

“Okay,” she said and she stood, leaving. I felt her moving right, going to the back-most room, to her church.

“There’ll be consequences to waiting,” Theo started. “He’s a king and even if we’re ‘gods’, he isn’t just going to accept that we’re blowing him off.”

“But that doesn’t mean we should rush things on our end,” said Katherine. “I know you want to go down there—”

“I just want to make sure we don’t forget that our decisions matter,” said Theo. He looked back.

“She isn’t here,” I said. “She’s in the church. No-one can hear us.”

Theo let out a breath. “I know that you think I’m like Ava, that I just want to avoid a fight—”

“Not like her,” I said. “Ava isn’t a coward,” I started, “but she wasn’t made for this. She knows that talking doesn’t solve everything, but she goes into things _hoping_ that it will and sometimes that blinds her.”

“Yeah. Okay,” said Theo. “It’s not that. It’s just that I don’t want us to forget about everyone else who isn’t us. I just want us to remember that they matter too.”

“Kirk isn’t here, but his words are resonating with me right now,” I said. “Should we increase the probability that _we_ might die for these people?”

“Isn’t that what being a hero is about?” he said. “Risking it all to save even _one_ life?”

“Self-sacrifice is commendable,” said Katherine, “but it’s not something you _actively_ seek out.”

“I’m not seeking it out,” said Theo. “I’m just…it’s just…we have to accept that we might have to do that.”

“Only as a _last_ resort,” I said. “I’m sorry because this might feel like I’m taking power and not allowing input, but I won’t let any of you die on me. I’ll do my best to make sure that innocents don’t die, but if it’s between them and _you?_ Especially when there’s still Earth Bet to think about. _”_

_Low blow when I don’t think we’ll be going back._

Theo’s hand closed into a fist, gave me a long look and then he sighed. “I’m gonna leave,” he said. “If that’s okay?”

“Sure,” I said.

Katherine sighed. “Fuck all of this,” she muttered. It felt poetic that that was the moment the rain started falling.

⸸

Everett not being around meant he wasn’t here to check the angles of floors. We’d built up the basement above, a floor that made a ceiling for us at the bottom. We’d built up columns and started to fill in the floor with boarders for other rooms, but there were place that were bare to the outside, letting in the night’s air and the rain. A mistake must have been made, a series of things overlooked and water hadn’t run off right; it had filled the gutters we used to carry water into specific parts of our floor, gotten into a space that hadn’t been filled in right, where the walls didn’t meet so tightly together that it was perfectly sealed, and as result water had flowed into our pantry.

_“Fuck,”_ I said.

“It won’t last long like this,” said Jarack. He stood next to me, the two of us looking at the mess. We’d made shelves of stone and kept the meat, bread and veggies separate. But not _too_ separate, it seemed, because the water had managed to touch most of the food. “The hard bread will be the first to go.”

I moved over to a metal barrel and checked over our grain. I didn’t think it would last longer than two weeks.

“We’ll have to go hunting,” Jarack continued.

I sighed. “Hunting’s gonna be harder,” I said. “The army outside has taken to hunting and our wildlife is starting to keep its distance. They’re travelling longer and their successes are being cut down.”

“There’s always fish,” Jarack said, bowing a little.

I sighed again and turned. Arina stood behind us, leaning to one side to see past her father and into our pantry.

“Arina,” I said and she stood straighter, a smile on her as she looked at me. “Be a dear a make me some tea, please. Making it _extra_ sweet.”

“Yes…Taylor,” she said and the way she was watching me had me thinking it was a test. Her father tensed, trying his best not to look at me. Arina gave me a long look and when I didn’t say anything she smiled and ran away.

“Forgiveness,” said Jarack and I held up a hand.

“Jarack, you’ve heard us talk,” I said. “I’m sure you’ve heard Ava when she says we aren’t gods. You don’t have to walk on eggshells around us.”

“You may not be gods, Your Worship,” he said. “But you are noble-born, and it is good that we know our place.”

“We aren’t noble-born,” I told him.

“You can read and write,” he said. “Your skin is largely unblemished even if it shows sign of seeing war. I…I think, Your Worship, that you and the others might have been low-born even among the high-born, but you are still of a higher station.”

I let out a sigh, not really even knowing why I’d tried. We’d spent over a month with Jarack and his family, and he would have seen us better than anyone on this world. He would have seen the time Theo had slipped one evening and fallen on his butt, the time Katherine had stubbed her toe and swore up a storm, and the time I’d burnt my tongue by drinking a cup of tea too deeply before it’d cooled. Human moments that should have given him doubt, told him we were nothing more than lost children. If he still chose to go along with this then I didn’t think my words would have him stop.

I looked back to the current problem. “How much time, do you think?” I asked. “Before we don’t have food?”

“Three, perhaps four days? That’s if we don’t get food from the outside,” he said. “I’d suggest we eat all of this as soon as possible at least to avoid waste.”

“I’ve been dreading it, but it’s been a while since we went to Fairmarket for supplies,” I said. “We might have to now.”

Jarack looked forlorn at that. “Perhaps Lord Blackwood would be happy to send an escort to Fairmarket,” he said.

I frowned. “I’m afraid that might be a little more complicated,” I said. I sighed. “What I’m about to tell you is a secret. You may tell your wife and Barden, but Arina is too young to know.”

“Of course, Your Worship,” he said, his tone grave and his eyes shining with fear.

“We’ve been invited by King Robert to King’s Landing,” I said.

“Is that not good, Your Worship? His Grace is a generous man,” he said. “It is known that he keeps a lot of exotic people in the Red Keep. A man with feathered wings and a red priest who fights with a sword of fire.”

Words that didn’t make sense when people were still sceptical about the sort of things we could do. A man with wings and another who could light his sword with fire. It didn’t make sense that Lord Blackwood and Maester Wynne wouldn’t have mentioned them at least once.

“I’m apprehensive,” I said. “Of going. It would be very easy for us to be killed in a place we don’t know. With this, I’m afraid that Lord Blackwood might use our ill-fortune to get us to travel to Raventree Hall where it’ll be easier to position us to go to King’s Landing.”

Jarack was silent.

“What counsel would you give me?” I asked. “As someone who knows this world and how it works.”

“I’m sorry, Your Worship,” he said. “I don’t know the world of lords and kings.”

I nodded. “Don’t sweat it,” I said with a sigh. “We’ll figure things out. But let’s clean this up first, make sure that some of the other stuff doesn’t get wet.”

He nodded and we worked. When Kirk woke up, he got into the wall and felt where the side of a wall hadn’t been connected correctly to another. He moved upstairs and widened the gutters. He spent the rest of the day building a run-off gutter into a large basin beyond the castle walls. It was a stopgap measure though, too much water and we’d have the same flooding problem again. 

“We’re running out of food we don’t have a choice but to go to Fairmarket,” Katherine said when we had time to meet. Arina was out gathering eggs and that meant we could talk with all of us together and without her finding out. The heavy rain had shifted into a light drizzle and it meant I could keep track of her and everything around her.

“With things as they are, I’m apprehensive about splitting us up more,” I said. “Or what Blackwood might try.”

“We’re running out of _food,”_ said Katherine. “I think that takes priority.”

Which was true, I hated to admit. We’d already been using more food than we usually did by hosting so many people and it had long since passed the point where we’d be out for supplies before the envoy could get back. We were running out of food, with a lot of our salt already used up and the vegetables we’d bought getting to the point where we wouldn’t be able to eat them.

“Let’s start collecting things,” I said. “Bring in more honey and get it into the jars, a lot of the silks and maybe a little of the blackberry jam—”

“We don’t have a lot of that, Your Worship,” said Myna. “The knights seem to enjoy it with their bread.”

I sighed, nodding. “Katherine,” I said. “You’ll head out with Annex, he hasn’t been out yet…” _and he might need the time to clear his head._

“I would like to go too,” said Barden, speaking a little too loud, paying more attention to his diction. Katherine gave him a glance but he wasn’t looking at her, he was looking at me with hard eyes. “I have trained with Grace and I have a greater understanding of my power and how to use it. Above that, I know the surroundings and the places to get the best deals.”

I looked at Katherine and she was blushing. I looked at Jarack who seemed a little proud and Myna who was terrified.

“Jarack?” I said.

Barden’s expression. “I’m a man grown,” he said. “Older even than the Goddess Cuff—”

“And she’s faced worst things than I hope you’ll ever know,” I said which shut him up. “Jarack, you’re his father.”

“My son is old enough to choose own path, Your Worship,” he said. “I’m happy that he’s chosen to follow the Living Gods instead of becoming a ne’er-do-well.”

“Okay,” I said. “You three will head off together. I’ll see if I can find any of the dyed silks look reasonably okay.”

“Thought you didn’t like those,” said Kirk.

I really didn’t. The dyes here weren’t those I was used to on Earth Bet, they needed significantly more skill than I had, and more time to learn how to use them than I could give.

“Silks are rare, Your Worship,” said Myna. “The browns you sold were something people held in high esteem. Even these they would do so.”

I nodded and set Barden to collect the silks while the rest of us split to collect honey. I asked Lord Blackwood for some of his men to help with the harvesting, with the promise that I would give them a third of the honey and thus I had over a dozen volunteers.

“It would be our pleasure to serve as escorts,” said Lord Blackwood as we had our lunch. We ate meat and slightly soggy bread, thankfully Myna had made a stew to dunk the bread which made things better. Outside the rain was falling in torrents again, which made Kirk’s work especially hard because of how cold the stone was.

I made a mental note to start thinking about insulation in the walls. I had no idea how we’d achieve it, but it would be something we had to think about.

“I’ll have the horse-master and his apprentice outfit your cart to be run by the horses instead of donkeys, it should make the trip faster,” he said, and there was no mention of the king’s invitation, which had me worried all the more. Was he going to make another play and try and attack us while our numbers were divided?

During the preparations, I told Katherine to be on the lookout for anything out of the ordinary. I still didn’t trust all of this, didn’t trust that they wouldn’t stab us in the back the moment it became easier to do so.

Four days later, after having to hunt to make sure they had food for the trip, Katherine, Kirk and Barden left with half a dozen of Blackwood’s men, Ser Gerard amongst them.

⸸

Half a week after the others had left and I received the letter, moist with ink that showed that it had been wet at one point. It was still legible, all things considered, written with more than a few flourishes and changes in spelling that sometimes made the words need more time to be understood. But it all told me what I knew, an invitation from the king to King’s Landing, reasonably neutral, only saying that he’d heard of us and wanted to meet that which others called spirits or gods.

There was silence at the table as we ate. We’d given away our meat to Blackwood’s army and instead started fishing more. It had started to go bad and we didn’t want to take the chance of food poisoning. Our bread supplies were on their last leg and we were now out of vegetables. I hoped the others would be back soon because even if I didn’t know a lot about nutrition, I knew eating a lot of meat without vegetables wasn’t healthy.

“The king wants to meet with us,” I said, looking up and handing the letter over to Theo who sat closest to me. The air was terse and I could feel the knights Blackwood had invited for the day touching the hilts of their swords. Blackwood himself sat straighter, grey eyes not straying away from me.

Jarack stood, mumbling something about stoking the fire, while Myna called Arina to help her change Eddin’s nappy.

“Is this usual?” I asked. “The king inviting the people in his realm to meet with him?”

“Not usual, no,” said Blackwood. “But I wouldn’t say meeting the gods is something that usually happens.”

“True,” I said and I sat back. “When does the king expect us?” I asked.

“It’s not said, my lady,” said Blackwood. “However, one doesn’t usually make the king wait. It’s disrespectful.”

A part of me wanted to mention that I was a god and calling me could be seen a disrespectful, but I thought about Theo. If I did that, then the king would feel compelled to exert his dominance and that might mean a lot of people being caught up in that stupidity.

I had to be delicate in how I played this and I might have to take a risk.

“Lord Blackwood,” I said. “You know that one of our own isn’t with us.”

“Yes, my lady,” he said. “Romp, if I remember correctly.”

I nodded. “She and others,” I said. I caught as his eyes opened a little wider at the words. “Have gone on a supply run, a trip that should see them return in two, perhaps three weeks.”

“Hence why you didn’t want to make a trip to Riverrun,” he said.

I nodded. “Communication here isn’t as it was in our realm, where we could have sent them a message and they would have received it in seconds—” Maester Wynne perked at that. He’d been fascinated by the fact that telling time for us was so fine an art that we’d gotten it down to the second, but information transferal was something he’d love even more. I expected questions. “As such it would be hard for us to communicate with the others to tell them of our plans to move elsewhere.”

“We can always send a raven, my lady,” said Blackwood.

“A raven would have to be sent to a lord,” I said, “and that lord would task their people to look for our companions. Information could easily ripple out and something may happen along the way that puts our friends in the way of peril. My apologies, but I cannot take the risk.”

“Of course,” he said, his tone tight. “Should I send this back to the king, then?” he said. “That you ask for time?”

“Do,” I said.

He gave a nod, returning to his food.

“My lady,” said Maester Wynne. “I wonder, would you be against having a maester of your own?”

“It’s something I’ve been thinking of asking about,” I said. “But I’m still unsure about the process as a whole.”

“Then I shall be happy to explain,” he said and he dominated my day with said explanation.

The maesters were a scholarly order made up only of men, they ensure that all knowledge passed through Oldtown, where it was recorded and stored for generations. They taught everything from medicine, math and finances, history, architecture and they sent out their maesters to every lord in the kingdom to serve them.

Usually, the maesters required a fee for a lord to have a maester in their castle, this fee sent to Oldtown to ensure that the order of maesters kept going, but Maester Wynne ensured me that he could get the others to agree to have us host a maester without having to pay for it, if only to get the advancements of our world.

“I think it’s worth mentioning,” I said. It was later in the day and we were sitting on chair-hands watching as Cuff and Golem sparred. I’d invited anyone who wanted to watch and of course this meant all but those guarding the camp and perimeter had come. I still remembered that as much as I was showing our powers to Blackwood and his knights, the common-man still doubted and they needed to see that they wouldn’t win against us.

Golem and Cuff were both decked out in full costumes, with Cuff holding a sword that was so large it should have been impractical. As warm-up, Golem was forming hands out of the ground while Cuff was either dodging or smashing them with her large sword.

“That our people specialised in certain sects of knowledge,” I said. “It seems that maesters largely have a general approach, learning all they can so they can know _something_ in every situation. The term would be jack of all trades in my world.”

“Quite, my lady,” he said. “Though it isn’t out of the question that some might specialise. Though those maesters usually stay in the Citadel to learn all they can about their craft.”

I gave a short nod. “My companions and I dealt with others like us,” I said. “People who sought to use their godly powers to steal from those who didn’t have them, those that committed crimes. As much as we know of our world, as much as we’ve learnt to have something of an abstract understanding. We don’t know _how_ things were made.”

“Why, my lady, that is no problem at all,” he said with a large smile. I raised a brow but Maester Wynne’s head snapped in the direction of the spar at a whoop from the soldiers. The ground was littered with hands and fingers, a mess of them, but Cuff had succeeded in getting close to Golem and getting the point of her sword to his neck.

“She needs work with her swordsmanship,” I heard muttered by a knight. There were so many and I sometimes couldn’t tell them apart from their squires that I didn’t remember his name. “All she was doing was hacking, not to mention the openings. Any half-decent fighter would have skewered her.”

I didn’t say anything, he was too far away and I was only hearing him because of my bugs.

There was applause from most of the soldiers.

“I’m sorry, my lady, my thoughts seemed to have gotten away from me,” said Maester Wynne.

“You were telling me it wasn’t a problem,” I said.

“Oh. Yes,” he said. “The hardest part of invention is knowing if something is _possible._ A second ago I wouldn’t have known that such communication was possible and now that I do, I’ll tell others and they might be able to think of a way it might work.”

“Can you give me a moment?” I said.

“Of course, my lady,” he said with a little bow.

**“Cuff.”**

People stopped, standings straight and looking around. The sound had come from everywhere and nowhere , filling the air and lingering.

“Yeah?” Cuff shouted, one of two who thought nothing of the words in the wind.

**“I need two cups with a hole. String telephone.”**

She gave me the thumbs up. She quickly got that done while I brought up a thick thread of silk. I inserted one end in and tied a loop while the others did the same on the other end. Ava had made the cup as thin as she could, but it wasn’t smoothed out and I was worried about the sound quality. I knew that this had to do with vibrations on a string, but I wasn’t sure if the cup was for direction or if it also did something to the vibrations. It didn’t matter.

“Lord Blackwell,” I said. “Could you do me the favour and go to other end?”

The man blushed. He didn’t want to move, especially when so many people were watching, but he remembered that he was still trying to get on our good side and went.

“Maester, put that to your ear.”

Maester Wynne didn’t even question it. I watched as Theo spoke to Lord Blackwood, telling the man to speak into the cup and I could see more resistance. Then Blackwood took it and said something.

Maester Wynne sucked in a breath, almost dropping the cup as he looked at it and then me.

“Answer him,” I said. “Whatever he said.”

Blackwood had muttered, “This is ridiculous.”

“This is incredible,” said Maester Wynne into the cup and Blackwood stood straighter, looking at the cup with a new light. “How?” he asked me.

“Vibrations,” I said. “When you speak you make the air vibrate. Those vibrations are collected by the cup and moved through the taut string and they’re let out again on the other side. I’m not sure how clear it was, though.”

“Clearer than I thought possible. Merwyn!” he said. “Come! Come and hear!”

One of the knights on the other end asked for a go and Blackwood acquiesced. I brought in more strings while Ava made more cups and we spread them out to everyone.

“Hey, Taylor,” said Theo, arms crossed and watching people play with string-telephones. “You do remember that Everett said we should keep a low profile, right?”

“Nah,” I said with a giant smile on me. “I think he just told us not to get into any fights.”

Theo only snorted.

⸸

“This has Hoster written all over it,” Lord Blackwood said, standing in his tent. It was large and warm, set up so well that not even the smallest chill passed in. He stood while Maester Wynne sat, the maester looking over a letter that had just arrived.

“Remember why you wanted to leave in the first place, my lord,” said Maester Wynne. “That hasn’t changed now because of this.”

_“Bracken,”_ Lord Blackwood spat. “That lumbering oaf might just as soon declare war than negotiate a successful union.”

“I doubt any of us will be able to negotiate a union,” Maester Wynne said. “We’re too different. There are still gaps, my lord, but I do not think their world works as ours does.”

Lord Blackwood stopped. “You think it’s a world now?”

“I…am starting to believe more and more what they say,” he said. “I think I believe the boy who came to us on our first night here, saying they saw Lady Weaver fly.”

“All this because of their voice magic?” he said.

“Quite honestly, _yes,”_ said Maester Wynne. “She told me, and from how she speaks I believe it. She told me that the much she knows is only a sliver to the greater knowledge of what her people have achieved. You should have noticed how they looked at us as we were in awe of their wonder, as babes with dolls.”

Lord Blackwood crossed his arms.

“In passing I’ve heard them bemoan how long it takes to travel,” Maester Wynne continued. “I heard Lady Grace boast to her paramour that if he were on their world the trip would take days if not… _hours._ Other times what they say doesn’t come together. Lord Annex mentioning he’s gone to other countries but never been on a ship. _How_ except if they can fly. Put together with dragons not existing on their world…”

“What do we do with this?” said Lord Blackwood. “The more I learn, the more I think we should attack in the night, slit all their throats and save ourselves the trouble.”

“My lord, you shouldn’t,” said Maester Wynne, rising to his feet. “The knowledge that would be lost.”

“Shouldn’t I?” said Lord Blackwood. “Need I remind you, maester, where they call home? Need I remind you that if Robert learns of what they can do on their own, the things they can teach others to do, it will be _us_ who fight this war? It’ll be our lands that bear the brunt of the ensuing battle?”

Maester Wynne sighed. “Ned Stark is now Hand—”

“Ned Stark whose been in the North through Robert’s rule,” said Lord Blackwood, his voice louder. “Jon Arryn, we knew. Jon Arryn we could know for sure would be calming waters to Robert’s fire. But Ned Stark? What do we really know about him?”

“He’s supposed to be an honourable man,” said Maester Wynne.

_“Platitudes,”_ said Lord Blackwood. “What do we _really_ know about him? What do we know about what he can achieve? How has he run the North and does that mean he’ll be able to run the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms?”

“My Lord,” said Maester Wynne. “If you make a move that is ill-thought, _you_ will be starting the war. We still don’t know everything we can about their abilities.”

“And I fear the moment we do,” Lord Blackwood muttered. He stood straight. “I have to get back to Raventree,” he said. “I feel the whisper of the old gods, the _true_ gods, and they tell me war is coming.”

“I suggest we ride out when their supply group returns,” said Maester Wynne. “It’ll look better, keep matters on friendly terms.”

Blackwood gave a stiff nod.

“And if I may ask, my lord, what of the return message to King Robert?” he asked.

“We’ll wait a few more days,” he said. “If the king sent his message while still journeying to King’s Landing, it’ll be time still before he arrives. We might not even have to delay if we wait long enough.”

“As you bid, my lord,” said Maester Wynne. The maester paused. “There’s the other matter, my lord. That they have companions.”

“Send word to the closest castles and holdfasts,” said Lord Blackwood. “Asking of any queer persons to appear, anything strange that might have been heard in passing.”

“Of course,” the maester said. Blackwood went out and checked over his men, talking to his knights and checking their food and water, looking down on soldiers who played around with the cups and string, talking to each other like children.

When the maester finished the letter, he sent out four ravens, three of which promptly died, attacked by a swarm of bugs, the last escaping.

⸸

Maester Wynne took up a lot of our time wanting to understand the mechanics behind the string-telephone and between me, Theo and Ava we had to cobble together what we knew about physics. Ava knew the most and she was often the one explaining how vibrations propagated and how waves moved.

“Everett would be able to explain this better,” Ava muttered, three days later as we walked together down the hill, going to collect crab for dinner. “Seismic tinker, he’s all about waves.”

“He’d probably make it complicated pretty quickly though,” I said.

“Oh God, _yes,”_ she said. “I asked him once to help me with some homework and it was _so_ bad. I spent an hour listening to him go on and on about the question being intrinsically wrong and him wanting to correct it so they’d be able to get the answer they wanted.”

“Did you end up handing the thing in?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Ended up doing it myself because half way through it, he had some ideas for his armour and he spend his time sketching it on his computer…” she stopped, sighing.

“What?”

“I’ve missed _so_ much of Prestige and Passion,” she said. “I’ll be lost when we get back.”

“Hey,” I said with a smile. “Do you know what the good thing is about being back in time?” She shrugged. “Stealing other people’s intellectual property and making yourself like some great storyteller.”

“Like Kirk,” she said with a smile.

“Credit to Kirk, he’s _very_ good at making the stuff interesting,” I said. “He made the prequels interesting. Though that’s mostly fan fiction—”

“Neeerd!” said Ava, smiling. She looked down. “Though maybe it would be ascended fan fiction now.”

I gave her a look and she blushed. “Nerd.”

We collected crabs, marched them up the hill in a great line and Myna prepared a good vegetable-less meal. At least we still had bread, though our grain stock was done and this was the last batch of bread.

“We’ll have to be leaving soon, my lady,” said Blackwood that evening. “My men have been gone too long from their homes and it’s time they returned their wives, children and lands.”

I nodded. “And matters with the king?”

“Lord Edmure has sent raven that Lord Bracken marches to meet with you,” he said, voice even.

“I wonder if you might tell me of him,” I said. “What I should expect?”

He was quiet for a long time before he said, “Lord Jonos is more…boisterous, than I, my lady. Filled with passion.”

“Your pause has me worried,” I said.

“Only that he hails the Seven, my lady,” he said. “And his gods are less forgiving of other gods than ours.”

“Do you think there’ll be trouble between us?”

“I can’t say I know, my lady,” he said. “There is said to live a red priest in King’s Landing and the High Septon says nothing of this. However, when the Faith of the Seven first came with the Andals, the first thing they did was burn all places where the old gods could be prayed to. Lord Bracken keeps to the old ways and he might see your appearance as an attack of his gods.”

I took a breath, slowly letting it out, tapping my finger on the table.

“I doubt, however,” he continued, “that Lord Bracken would be brash if he were to see proof of your godly power.”

“Or he might be more intimidated,” said Ava. She didn’t usually talk in these things and that earned everyone’s attention. “Even we have gods,” she said. “But with us you have a choice if you want to worship them or not.” She frowned. “People do a lot of bad things when their gods are threatened.”

“There would be no need for them to see you as threatening, my lady,” said Maester Wynne.

Ava sighed. “I hope so.”

When Lord Blackwood got back to his tent, he wasn’t the only one who thought that Ava’s words were a threat, that she was afraid of what she might be forced to do if it came to a fight. It felt more and more like the tensions were rising, that Lord Blackwood thought the Bracken envoy would mess things up and I caught him more than once discussing with his trusted advisers how they thought they would fight us if it was needed.

“…but at a distance, things are easier,” one said after advising that we be pelted with a hail of arrows. Another said poison might be the smarter way, inviting us to a feast and then slipping it in. There was arguing after that about honour and he was eventually shot down, but it was worrying to think about. Most, though, decided the best thing to do would be to starve us out. We still needed to eat after all.

I didn’t tell Theo or Ava because I didn’t want them to worry. I would have told Katherine if she were here but she was in Fairmarket and I was left afraid that having us split up might have been a bad idea.

I needed to accept how this world worked. Theo’s words about fear were ringing in my mind as I thought through the night, sleeping lightly to make sure I could detect anyone who tripped the web-lines I’d put up at the metal gate we’d now turned to with Kirk gone.

Fear was fire and it was unpredictable. I could use it for food, but I couldn’t solely depend on it. I needed, metaphorically speaking, induction heating. I needed to work past the need for fire into the next level. Which, in this world, meant relationships.

As hard as it was, I needed to start schmoozing.

“It will be mean dreary days to see you leave,” I said to Maester Wynne the next day. He was the person I had most of a connection with and to just start up something with anyone else might be suspicious.

He smiled. “You flatter me, my lady,” he said. “You must find me quite annoying with my constant inquiry.”

“On my world,” I said, “there are devices, so small they can be held in one hand and they hold access to the accumulation of our knowledge. Some of it is inaccurate, of course, there is no barrier to who can add knowledge into this vast storage, which means anything can be added. But if you search, you _can_ find most of the known answers. It was always my philosophy that those who chose to remain ignorant when searching for that knowledge was the easiest thing, they were the worst of us.”

“A philosophy that would no doubt be shared by many in my order,” he said. “Perhaps it may be unkind, my lady, but may I ask why you don’t know _more_ if this storage of knowledge existed?”

I stopped, thinking it over. “Because I had no reason to learn it,” I said. “Imagine you needed to know of a matter that occurred five hundred years past. At any point you can search the date and every book detailing events on that date is listed and you can read it. But imagine further still, you know a person within that period that you want to know about. You have only to amend this search, refine it so it only brings back books with both the person and the date. Would you ever finding it within you, then, to retain all of it? Especially when most of it you might not need in your day-to-day and are only looking it over for the sake of interest.”

“This is a hard world to imagine,” he said.

“It was good and bad both,” I said.

He gave me a look. “You must find us quite primitive,” he said. “If your people had achieved so much.”

“Your technology is primitive, but that you survive is sometimes hard to wrap my head around,” I said.

_Show weakness to increase bonds,_ I thought, something I’d heard but I couldn’t remember where.

“All our technological feats had us used to a certain lifestyle,” I said. “Food was easier to get and it wasn’t out of the question to see even the poorest of us become fat because of the abundance of unhealthy foods—” this seemed like a foreign concept to him, but he didn’t interrupt me “—fire was easy to make in the form of a match—a stick you struck against paper that would immediately light—and most of us didn’t need fire for most of the thing we did. When my companions and I arrived here, the shift between that sort of survival and this one hit us quite hard.”

“But you survived,” he said.

“Thanks in large part to our powers,” I said and nodded. I let out a sigh because my mind was drifting back to Earth Bet, longing to go back even if it would end in less than two years. But I couldn’t give myself that hope. We hadn’t been pulled back and I had to think that the greatest thinker minds had a reason for doing that. “I’m rambling.”

_“Fascinating_ ramblings,” he said.

“Lord Blackwood invited me to Raventree,” I said. “The road to King’s Landing can be travelled there. I think I might visit, to see you again and perhaps you may teach me somethings about ravens.”

“It would be an honour, my lady,” he said with a smile. “You should know that I already sent letter to the Citadel, requesting a maester be sent. Any return should meet me at Raventree, but I have birds that know this location and I’ll send word when I can.”

“Thank you,” I said, giving him a smile. “Your work is appreciated.”

Schmoozing seemingly worked better than fear, because when Maester Wynne told Lord Blackwood of our conversation, he was happy that at least _one_ person had succeeded in forming some relationship with us.

“Now let’s pray to gods, old, new and living that Bracken doesn’t royally fuck this up,” said Lord Blackwood.

⸸

_Keep calm,_ I thought even as bugs drifted through the air towards me. I was too aware of people and how they were moving, of the person that rode to Lord Blackwood before the others arrived with us. I formed swarms, waking Theo and Ava as I quickly shrugged on my costume.

Theo and Ava arrived in costume, their masks in hand.

“What’s going on? An attack?” said Ava.

“The are carts coming here and there are more people but our people aren’t there,” I said. “Might be trouble.”

It didn’t feel like it, there was just too much that didn’t fit. There were four carts and they had animals, food and clothes on them, there were half a dozen horses being led in our direction and there were even three cows, all of them with children riding on them.

“Oh God,” Ava muttered. “Oh God, please, no.”

“It’s okay,” said Theo. “We don’t know anything. It might be fine.”

Ava looked at me and I nodded. “Just a precaution,” I said, some confusion bleeding into my tone.

_“My lord,”_ said a rider, having arrived at camp and woken Lord Blackwood. He wasn’t Lord Gerard, I noticed, for that matter I didn’t see the knight amongst the people travelling here.

_“You’re back,”_ said Lord Blackwood. _“I wouldn’t have expected you to travel through the night.”_

_“Raiders my lord,”_ he said. _“We feared they’d love nothing but to see us dead so word of their treachery wouldn’t reach the gods.”_

_“Explain,”_ said Lord Blackwood.

_“Lady Grace sent us ahead while she, Lord Annex and Lordling Poltergeist stayed behind to deal with the mess.”_

“What _mess,”_ said Lord Blackwood.

_“The silks they’ve been trading,”_ said the man. _“More than a few of the smallfolk wore them and this earned the attention of passers-by. They told of the tale and raiders started to appear to steal the silks and resell them.”_

“Fuck,” I muttered.

“What’s going on?” said Ava. Golem put on his mask.

I shook my head. “Take it off,” I told him. “I don’t think it’s trouble. Well, not the trouble we were expecting. The silk we’ve been selling has invited criminals. The others stayed behind to deal with it.”

_“Get the horn,”_ said Lord Blackwood. _“We’ll have to explain this to Weaver and her companions.”_

The horn sounded a moment later and we opened the gates. The man explained everything to me, explained the coming envoy and then handed me a letter Grace had written in Spanish. I couldn’t read it, but Ava could and she translated it for us. A message and a phrase as password, something none on this world would know.

I let out a relieved breath.

There were people coming, over a thirty, all of them had had their farms destroyed or they hadn’t had anything to stay in Fairmarket for. Barden had told them that they might have an easier time restarting their lives here than in the much further Harroway or Saltpans.

“Okay,” I said. This had always been bound to happen if we stayed here long enough. People formed a community around safety and they would see us as better able to protect them. I had to make sure not to mess things up.

I swallowed, pushing back the unease I felt at the bottom of my stomach and remembered that I’d done something like this before. I’d been warlord of Brockton Bay and though things had been easier there because of Coil bankrolling me, it had imparted lessons.

“Okay,” I said with another nod. “Let’s start setting up fires and cooking what meat we have left. These people will be tired and hungry, let’s make them as comfortable as we can.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Grace**

The path was narrow, a streak of dirt lined on both sides by tall, green grass. On either side of the path were tall trees, tightly clustered together, stopping the scout riding in front of us from cutting into the forest.

Good for us because Gerard and I were heavy and slowing down our bigger horse.

The man was dressed in light armour and rode a thinner, faster horse. Every second was time he was moving further away from us and soon he’d join with his group, making this more difficult.

“Don’t slow down,” I whispered in Gerard’s ear and I loosed the hug. I shifted, arms going to his shoulder as I got my feet on the horse’s back. The pounding motion would have had anyone else falling off, but my powers kept me on. My increased perception of time meant I could take everything in; my heightened reflexes meant I could shift _with_ the movement of the horse so it wouldn’t throw me off; and my brute strength meant I wouldn’t lose my grip on Gerard’s shoulders.

The wind buffeted my face, getting into my eyes and whipping my hair back, but I’d been through the sunroof of a car at high speed and this was nothing compared to that.

Gerard glanced back, his eyes wide but focused on driving, head low and kicking at the horse’s side to make it move faster.

I jumped back, invulnerability going to my feet as I landed and pounced back into air almost immediately. The earth shattered and I sailed past Gerard, moving toward the trunk of a tree while kicking out. The trunk shattered as I landed and pushed off, sailing further forward, closing the distance between me and the scout but not catching up.

The horses neighed and reared up, forcing both riders to get them under control. I sailed over the little path between trees, curling into a ball and angling myself so I landed on a tree on the other side. I pushed off again, the sound of a shattering trunk spooking the horses.

Another step and I caught up to the scout, sailing at him at an angle and landing a kick that sent him flying off his horse. A sickly crack reverberated as he tumbled on the ground, stopping when he slammed into a tree.

I landed in a roll and came up, swallowing as I looked at the man.

It had been so long since I’d done something like this, dealt with a non-brute. Usually, Weaver would have dealt with this man, made a wall of bugs that stopped the horses, ties of silk that would have pulled him free. Tecton would have created a cloud of dust to stop him if it was needed, making fissures in the ground that would have forced the horse to become slower.

The only option I had was punching him really hard and hope he wasn’t hurt in the aftermath. The others thought my powers were amazing, I was a grab bag and those could be hard to deal with, but they missed how versatile they could be when they fought.

I pushed it all back, focusing on the here and now.

Gerard passed me, going for the rider-less horse.

I focused on the man, pale and wearing leather, his sword had fallen in the tumble but he had a knife on him that he wasn’t even paying attention to. One arm lay close against his side, not moving, his face was laced with pain and wide eyes looked up at me.

“Is your arm broken?” I asked.

The man swallowed and shifted his arm. “Ye—Yes, Goddess,” he said, voice tight with pain. I watched as he took me in. I wasn’t wearing a mask but I was in costume, padded armour with a loose feel to it, silk wrappings all over my body. Even dirty, it was leagues above anything sown in this world.

The man was sweating bullets the more time passed.

“We should get you help,” I said. “That can be a bitch.”

“Quite, Goddess,” he said, confusion appearing and staying.

I turned as Gerard returned, holding the other horse by the reins. I moved closer to the man and he shifted trying to scramble back. He hissed as he put too much weight on the broken arm. I got closer and moved my invulnerability to my face, it was the one place people tended to like attacking and with how close I was getting he might panic and try to attack.

Weaver was in my thoughts as I moved, the person she was and the aura she cast. She wasn’t a brute, not a changer or a breaker and not really a thinker, but with her projection she was all of that and more. She was heavy-handed a lot of the time but that was because she got results.

_Project fear and awe and ride it._

I got the man in a bridal hold and picked him up, feeling his heart-rate pick up with the contact. I moved him over to the horse and put him on, then seamlessly got on behind him. I still couldn’t really ride a horse, but I could control my perception and make sure I shifted so I didn’t fall off my horse.

We moved at a trot because the horses were tired. The man didn’t ease at all through the ride, sitting straight and making my control of the horse awkward because he was taller than me and I had to shift to see past him. Not that it mattered. My horse, I felt, was following Gerard’s horse more than I was really controlling it.

I turned my head. “I hear something,” I said.

“My lady?” said Gerard, a hint of confusion in his voice. There hadn’t been anything there at all but I was doing my best to think a few steps ahead.

“It might be his friends,” I said. “I’ll deal with it and catch up.”

“Will you need my help?” said Gerard. He gave me a look of restrained confusion but he played along.

“No,” I said and swallowed, hoping to keep away the discomfort from my face. I jumped off the horse, jostling the scout hard enough for him to squeak, landed and ran. I got into the trees then jumped, pushing off and landing on a tree and pushing off again. The sound of it cracking reverberated, another crack as I landed on another tree and another as I punched through it.

The tree fell, the sound cast out through the night. I jumped again, breaking more trees before I started running to catch up with Gerard and the scout. I moved quietly, jumping from tree to tree, then jumped over them to land in their path, cracking the ground as I landed.

 _Weaver,_ I thought.

My back straight, eyes not looking directly at Gerard or the scout and my mouth a straight line. Cool, implacable.

“They weren’t cooperative,” I said, doing my best to project an even tone. The light was low, but I was sure I could see tears on the scout’s face. I let out a sigh, letting my regret for all of _this_ bleed through. “I hope you will be.”

We travelled south of Fairmarket, keeping a wide berth of the town to make sure we weren’t spotted. Our reception on coming to restock had been chilly. It had come after a few raids from raiders, where families both rich and poor had been robbed of their silks. But word was starting to move through the grapevine and people knew that ‘gods’ lived in Oldstones.

We hadn’t been thrown out, but people made sure that any business they did with us was quick. They didn’t trade anything with silk since it was such a high value target and that sucked because we hadn’t been able to get the heap of food trading silk would have given us.

Gerard knew the terrain better and he found the spot with the sparse trees. We turned away from the path, going deeper into the wood until we found the clearing with the others.

Gerard and his squire, Axell, had been the only people to stay when Annex and I had agreed to help the people of Fairmarket. But they weren’t the only people who were at camp: There were Damon, Elston and Forrest, people who’d been personally hurt by the raiders and chosen to stay and fight with us; as well as Malario Sanerah and Lazelos Phassios, two bravos from Braavos who’d travelled with merchants into Saltpans before they’d heard of us and travelled west to investigate.

“Graceful Goddess,” said Malario, coming to his feet as we appeared. He was in his mid-twenties, olive-toned skinned and with dark, curly hair. “It is good to see you returned.”

“It is so,” said Lazelos, stopping his conversation with Annex and standing. He had dark skin, hair that was just coming in and large eyes that he seemed to squint every time he smiled.

I still didn’t entirely trust them, which that might have had to do with Gerard and Barden warning me against them, but they were good for Annex. Lazelos was the first black person we’d seen, and even if the cultures were different, I could see that Annex at least appreciated it. He was speaking more, having even gone so far as asking Lazelos to cut his hair.

I just had to keep an eye on them, make sure they weren’t planning to stab us in the back.

I jumped off my horse and the scout hissed.

“This is one of them,” said Elston. He had a sword but it wasn’t in good condition or quality, I could see places where it was rusted over. “I’ve seen his face a few times.”

“We’re not killing him,” I said, looking from Elston’s sword to his face. He swallowed, his face twisted with tempered rage. “At least I hope so,” I said with a glance back at the scout.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want, Goddess,” the man said quickly. “But please, help me. The pain.”

I looked at Gerard. “Axell,” he said. “Take care of him.”

“Yes, my lord,” said Axell and he moved, going to the horses we had at the back, to a pack and pulling out some leaves. He broke some off and said, “Eat. Should ease the pain.”

The man took them and chewed without question. Axell helped him off his horse and the scout grunted all through it.

I moved to Annex and Barden, gave the bravos a look and they moved back with a bow, going over to the squire and helping him look over the scout’s broken arm. Damon, Elston and Forrest kept their distance from us and the scout, but they would direct looks at us when they thought I wasn’t looking.

“Any trouble?” Annex asked.

“He didn’t get where he was going so they don’t know we’re here yet,” I said. “But when he doesn’t get back they’ll be suspicious. We’re gonna have to act fast, catch them off guard.”

“Gonna be hard without Weaver here,” said Annex.

I shook my head. “Doesn’t help us to cry over spilled milk,” I said. “Focus on this and using the powers that we have to get them.”

Annex nodded. “Got a plan? Because you know I’m not a fighter,” he said.

“But I am,” said Barden. “Next time I could—”

 _Separate personal from business,_ I thought before saying, “You’re inexperienced even if you have powers, Barden,” I said. “I’m not just going to throw you in the deep end before I know for sure you can swim.”

He frowned, looking like he wanted to say something but he held his tongue.

_Good._

“First thing we should do is get as much intel as we can,” I said. “Then I can start thinking about plans. We’ll be using Weaver tactics. We’re scaring him and hoping that we don’t have to hurt him.”

“But what if we do?” said Annex. “What if he doesn’t cooperate?”

“Then…”

_The hard part. The part that I don’t think I can do._

I thought about Tecton and how he’d handle things because I didn’t at all want to get into Weaver’s mindset, as useful as it might be, as _easy_ as it would be.

“…we figure things out,” I said. I started walking and Annex and Barden followed. The others took that as sign to get closer and we all surrounded the scout. “Okay,” I said, my voice even. “You’re going to tell us everything we need to know about your group or…Poltergeist.”

He jumped a little and then his hand _broke,_ becoming air. He flung it to the side and gouges appeared on the ground, stirring up dirt and having it swirl inward forming an earthen hand with the features warped, the arm thinner, longer, the fingers unnatural and stretched further than fingers should.

The man squeaked, then, “There are twenty of us hidden outside of Fairmarket but there are seven within the town. We’ve been paying people to give us information about anything new that’s happened. If you’ve been sighted and who you’ve traded silk to…”

£

Tecton was about terrain, wanting the battleground to be on his turf then manipulating it. He’d had a plan in mind when he’d put our team together: Get a lot of people that could control the ground, then have a few that could finish things off. Me, Ava and maybe Weaver because Wanton finished things off _too_ well.

When I thought about him in this scenario, he would want these people to come to us. He’d ask for input on how to get to that point, but the end of the plan would be them fighting where we’d already had time to set up, with him and Annex having reworked the ground to make things harder for our enemies.

That wasn’t going to work for us. Annex was here and he could rework the ground, but he was only one person and he would need a _lot_ of time to get the terrain just right. Time wasn’t something we had. An hour had passed since we’d got Gerren, the scout, and his people would be missing him.

Weaver would be faster. She would want us to ride out. She’d use her power to spot the raiders and bug them, getting valuable intel while setting up the field around them. She’d use Tecton, Golem and Annex to close off their retreat paths before starting to harry them. Bugs first and if that didn’t work, we’d be there to close things down.

Something else I couldn’t do. Or at least that wouldn’t be easy. I was sure I could sneak pretty well, but I didn’t have her super awareness which meant a chance of being seen. 

 _You’re not them. Stop trying to be them and make up your own plan. How do_ you _fight?_

Close combat and blitzing if I could. All my powers came together to make me hard to hit and I could use it in ways that made my enemies hit each other. But that needed my enemies to _fight_ me instead of choosing the smarter option of running.

 _And that’s how_ you _fight, not how the team fights. Remember that you have people you have to lead._

Annex - shaker. He wasn’t a direct fighter, preferring to fix and rework. He was an artist at heart and the times he’d had to get into combat, he’d stayed behind, choosing to shore up defences.

Poltergeist - breaker-changer. His powers were of a direct fighter but he was untrained, and I didn’t know what he would do in the heat of battle. I’d trained him and I knew he took to lessons pretty well, but he didn’t have imagination.

I couldn’t discount the others, too: Gerard and Axell were trained fighters, with the former good with a bow and arrow, though he couldn’t shoot well if his horse was still moving; Malario and Lazelos were good fighters with a sword, or at least they said they were, but the times I’d seen them sparring it had been so showy it was hard to judge skill; and Damon, Elston and Forrest could hack with the swords they had, but they weren’t really fighters.

Not enough numbers for a full-frontal assault, which meant I had to frame things just right.

“Tell me about your strategies as when you raid,” I said and Gerren nodded, looking sleepy but pushing through it. It was the dead of night and all of us sat around a low fire, there was moisture in the air and it seemed to carry the shit from the horses.

Gerren explained that they preferred to attack homes at the edges of town if they could. Fairmarket was a town that clustered near the Blue Fork, with farms spreading out to surround it. There were less people living in these farms and this made them easier to pick off than the people within town.

“Then how did you manage to convince the people in Fairmarket to give you their silks?” I asked.

“By making an example, Goddess,” said Gerren. He swallowed, looking down. “Fairmarket isn’t as well travelled as Harroway or Saltpans, it isn’t too big and it isn’t in the way of some great castle. The food they have, staple foods, they get from the surrounding farms.” He stopped, looking at me then casting his eyes away only to find harsher gazes directed at him. He looked down. “We sent a message. Burnt down the farms of the fiercest fighters, then burnt down the farm of anyone who stood against us until they were all but giving us the silks.”

“Fuck _you,”_ Annex muttered and Gerren shook at the words.

“Your leader must have known that such action would mean he would be hunted,” said Gerard.

“This is _god’s silk,”_ said Gerren. “We already had buyers from Essos who thought the silks would go for triple price they were paying us.”

“Which is?” asked Gerard.

Gerren shrugged. “Don’t know the exact price, my lord—”

“I’m no lord,” said Gerard.

“My apologies, _ser,”_ Gerren said. “I don’t know the exact price, but the merchant was talking in the figure of dragons. Five, maybe six?”

“Is that a lot?” I asked.

“Quite, my lady,” said Gerard. “Smallfolk can go their lives without holding or seeing a dragon. For that matter, I haven’t ever had to use one myself. That a merchant would be offering this would cause most to become drunk by their future of wealth.”

“Even when it’s hurting so many people?” Annex muttered. “That’s fucked up.”

“Some men are seeking only wealth, Boarder God,” said Lazelos. “To them this is the only pleasure. They are not caring of others.”

Annex sighed, looking a little glum.

“We still have silk,” I said, pushing past the discomfort, my surging stomach and the ‘ _your fault’_ at the back of my mind and instead thinking about how to fix it. “A lot of it. If it’s so expensive, we can use it to get them to come to us.”

“That would require bait,” said Gerard. “Perhaps we could convince the smallfolk to say they bought silk from us—”

“Wouldn’t work,” said Elston. Gerard frowned at the interruption. “Ser,” Elston added. “No one in their right mind would trade silk with the price. Perhaps Brynden Seedwill, but he has survived the bandits.”

“A foolish man would be doing this,” said Malario. He grinned.

“Lazelos Phassios is such a man,” said Lazelos.

“And Malario Sanerah as well,” said Malario. “Malario Sanerah travelled with the gods to Oldstones.”

“It was seen,” Lazelos agreed.

“Malario Sanerah and Lazelos Phassios will be riding to the fair market with a tale. A mission from living gods. To be going east and selling their silks.”

I nodded. “Fairmarket is a waypoint,” I said. “Makes sense that you would stop there.”

“Just so,” said Lazelos. “And if Lazelos Phassios or Malario Sanerah are drunk of happiness and are speaking with loud voices, no man will be judging them.”

“Map,” I said. Axell pulled one out and put it on the ground, we had to shift so the fire could hit it. “We’re…”

“Here, my lady,” said Gerard, pointing.

“And we’ll expect that if they hit you, they’ll do it out of town,” I said. “East. We should go there and lie in wait.”

“We’ll still be outnumbered,” said Gerard. “With only four non-godly fighters of worth—” Elston’s people glared but when Gerard looked at them the expressions disappeared. “—and your abilities, they can still overwhelm us.”

“They’ll be on horseback,” I said, “and we can make things tougher for them. Pits that’ll fall if too much weight is put on them, caves we’ll be able to use if we’re overwhelmed and rises in the ground to snipe them from afar.”

“Snipe, my lady?” said Gerard.

“Shoot them from a distance,” said Barden.

“Thank you, lordling,” said Gerard. Barden both frowned and looked happy at the words. It was stupid, but he’d worn the dopiest of smiles for three days after Annex had given him the name Poltergeist.

 _“Exotic,”_ he’d said, saying Poltergeist over and over until he matched Annex and my pronunciation.

“I am a better swordsman than I am an archer, my lady,” Gerard said to me.

“I don’t need swordsmen,” I said. “I need an archer.” Gerard took a breath, a frown on him as he nodded. “Who else is good with a bow and arrow.”

“I am, m’lady,” said Forrest. “But I’m not the best.”

“Then we’ll have to get you a bow and arrow,” I said as we prepare. I took a breath, thinking about Gerren. “We’ll have to keep him even if it makes his crew suspicious. I’m hoping they’ll be greedy enough to come at us even if they have reservations.”

£

One day into two into three into four then five. All of them we worked. First it was finding our staging ground. We wanted some place cramped that would be hard for horses to move through, when that wasn’t enough, I tore down trees for barriers and Kirk made shrub-like outcroppings that no horse could travel past. We made bottlenecks to narrow their number and hillocks that were hard notice, Gerard and Forrest would be stationed there to snipe. Elston and Damon could weave a net and we used silk to make it, stringing it in the trees above, with Barden and I carrying rocks up and piling them in the silk net.

It was more haphazard than it would be if Tecton were here, but Barden and I started tearing into trees, not enough that they fell, but so they were unstable.

Every night we slept under the stars on the hard ground, covered in our cloaks for warmth. Gerard and Forrest would go hunting in the mornings, while Lazelos and Malario trekked to the Blue Fork to go fishing, the latter two often brought back more food than Gerard and Forrest.

“We’ve been making a lot of noise as we worked,” Gerard explained on our seventh night. It was a cloudless night but we couldn’t see the moon, the only light was a small fire at the centre of our camp. “Animals will no doubt have moved away.”

“That is why it is always good to be fishing,” said Lazelos. “Fish are dumb.”

“I think we’re just about done with setup,” I said. “We’ll have to start making moves now.”

“Excellent,” said Malario. “Malario Sanerah has been aching to move. It is not the way of the bravo to be working the lands. Ours is to fight.”

“A keen bravo can do all,” said Lazelos, grinning. “A keen bravo is knowing that all can be used in the water dance. It is why Malario Sanerah has never won against Lazelos Phassios.”

“Is it a challenge Malario Sanerah is hearing coming from the lip of Lazelos Phassios?”

“It is untrained ears that have to ask again what they heared,” said Lazelos.

Malario rolled back and got to his feet while Lazelos jumped up, pulling his sword and getting into a fighting stance. Both men were grinning before they started, one would thrust and another would parry. Slow at first then gradually faster, all in a rhythm. The low clang of metal against metal passed through the air as they play-fought, all while directing jibes at the other.

I wanted to tell them to stop, that the sound might attract people but everyone needed this. This world was grating because there was no time to rest. We spent a week just working, with only Kirk, Axell and Malario’s stories for entertainment. Maybe we needed this.

My eyes strayed to Gerren. He’d been working with us, even with the broken arm. Elston and Damon had wanted us to kill the man and I’d refused that. I’d asked about jail and Gerard had told me that imprisonment worked only in three ways: A tenure in the dungeons, which could be a gruelling experience and sometimes the prisoner was killed if they were using up a lot of resources that could be going elsewhere; they could get righteous justice, a lopping of the hands for theft, a cutting of the tongue for the spread of lies, or death for killing others; or they could be sent to the Wall, where they would be a sworn man of the Night’s Watch and where they would live out the rest of their lives.

“Fucked up, right?” Kirk said, getting closer to me. I had Gerard to one side and Barden had been sitting to my right, but he’d disappeared into the forest to ‘make water’. I raised a brow. “The justice system.”

“It’s all they have unless we’re going to be making major reforms,” I said.

Kirk snorted. “Where would we even start something like that?” he said. “And what happens when we leave? Will the people here want to carry on what we started or do what they’ve been doing for thousands of years?”

I gave Kirk a look and could see the hard expression on him. Even with the fishing we weren’t eating enough to balance out how much work we were doing and Kirk was hollowed out. His cheeks had drawn in and he’d lost a little of his bulk. Not scary thin, but not what I was used to.

But more than how he looked, was how he sounded. Kirk liked spending time with Lazelos and Malario, even if it was mostly spent with him being quiet and the other talking or insulting each other, and he hadn’t sounded like this since he’d been cooped up at Oldstones.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

Kirk sighed, running a hand over his head. Hair was starting to grow back in, but it wasn’t enough that his hand caught. He smiled a little before he frowned.

“Slaves are a thing in Essos,” he said.

“Oh,” I said and my stomach twisted.

“There were slaves in my family,” he said. “My however many greats grandmother was in the south during the civil war. She was helped by the Underground Railroad, given papers, a place to live and a job until she could get on her feet. Not that it all worked out for her, she was caught two times,” he shrugged, “but at least she was free at the end.”

He sighed. “It’s…not something I really understood, you know? How bad things were back then and when I heard the stories I sometimes didn’t want to believe them? Like, people can be messed up, yeah, sure, but…sometimes it’s hard to grasp. I guess I’ve been thinking about it a lot since Lazelos Phassios and Malario Sanerah told me about the other Free Cities or Slaver’s Bay. Like, if my great-grandmother was here, what would she say that I wasn’t doing all that I could to help those slaves when there were people who put their lives at risk to help her?”

“Kirk,” I said, my stomach was still twisting. I was supposed to be giving him advice, at least that’s what I thought he wanted, but for the life of me I didn’t know what to say. Kirk wasn’t a person that usually shared his problems and now he was coming to me. It was pressure to do the right thing, to _say_ the right thing.

“I’m not expecting you to have a magical solution,” Kirk said before I could say anything. He sighed. “Just…” He shrugged. “I wanted to talk to someone who can understand how fucked up it all is.”

“It’s very fucked up,” I said, my voice a little hollow.

Tecton had told me that there were one of two types of people. The ones who came to you with a problem expecting a solution, and others came to you expecting sympathy. Maybe Kirk was the latter.

“And it’s more fucked up because we have powers and it feels like we _should_ be able to do something.”

Kirk’s hands clenched into fists. “And that’s the thing that gets me,” he said, his voice raw. “It’s like…we’ll be leaving soon and I’m supposed to forget about this world when we’re back home? Forget about the people that are suffering?”

 _There are people suffering on Earth Bet too,_ I thought, _but we manage to forget about them._

I didn’t say it though because it might invalidate Kirk’s feeling in the bad way.

“A part of me just wants to do everything I can now,” he said. “Just…leave and go to the Free Cities, start undoing it all.”

“It won’t be as simple as that,” I said, too quickly. My heart had suddenly picked up. I knew it was unlikely that we would go home but what scared me more was Kirk leaving and maybe getting killed out there where we wouldn’t be able to protect him.

Kirk wasn’t a fighter, not because he was scared but because of his power. How would he change the world like that? But then I could imagine it. I could imagine him building a city for former slaves, with high walls that would keep anyone out. I could imagine him going into a city with slaves, building a tunnel and helping people get away. If he worked smart, he might be able to do it.

But did he know this or was he thinking in the abstract?

If he didn’t know it, then I didn’t want to give him ideas that would have him leave us.

“Yeah, I know,” he said with a sigh.

Lazelos and Malario stopped their fight, with Lazelos inviting Kirk to learn how to fight with a sword.

“You are having the body of a dancer, Boarder God,” he said to him, the Braavosi wearing an easy smile. “Come. Let Lazelos Phassios teach you the water dance.”

It was simple stuff, footing and how weight was positioned, giving him a sword and teaching him to carry it. Barden got back, getting close to me before I moved away.

“Hands,” I said and he didn’t grumble, only going to an earthen pot Kirk had made, pulling out some water and washing his hands. When he got back, I threw one arm over his shoulder. Forgetting a little that the next phase would involve killing a lot of people. 

£

It was the early hours of the morning when Lazelos and Malario left and it was the dead of night when we heard the hoot of an owl followed by the fervent tromp of hooves. I was atop a tree and I caught the glimmer of a torches in the winding path beside the Blue Fork, caught as the torches changed direction, getting into the wood.

I saw them as they reached a bottleneck, switching from riding five-aside, to three-aside. The people at the lead rode two a horse, with the people at the back having arrows ready and firing whenever there was an opening. The night moved from silence to hooves and shouts, the hissing of arrows through the air and the thuds of them slamming into trees.

Lazelos and Malario passed under me first, the silks tied to their horses and both men keeping low. They passed through the clearing, splitting apart where there was another bottleneck that would force them to divide their forces in half.

The raiders passed under me without looking up, at least thirty of them if my count was right, some two a horse.

Gerard and Forest fired their arrows, not aiming for the people but the horses. A lead horse was hit and a sound that hit me in the heart reverberated. It made _sense,_ the horse was a larger target even moving, and if it fell there was the chance of it hurting its rider, but it still surprised me. The horse was hit in the eye and it reared back. An archer fell, trampled by a horse behind him.

“We’re surrounded!”

“Turn back!”

But it was easier said than done. There were too many of them and turning around was awkward. I caught Elston and Damon cutting at the silk and undoing the net we’d set up above the trees. Rocks rained down and the sound of screaming and horses neighing reverberated. A few who had survived the rocks managed to turn and start to run, which was cue for me and Poltergeist to act. I punched my tree and it exploded, the sound of creaking wood reverberating as it fell, crashing into other trees we’d made unstable. Further forward the same thing happened, trees falling into other trees, stopping them from going forward or falling back.

Horses were panicking, throwing their riders and trying to get between trees to get away. The shrub-like protrusion stopped them, hitting them at the knees and making them fall hard enough that they struggled to get up. People were having an easier time running off their mount, but they were bloodied, not thinking straight and didn’t have direction. What made it worse was that they were being picked off, arrows, rocks and clumps of dirt and bark flying in from the darkness.

In less than a minute, thirty men had been cut down to twelve still standing, swords ready and looking around for an attack. They clustered together in a rough circle, their expressions hard and blood visible in the low light of their fallen torches.

“Hold!” I said the arrows and rocks stopped. I jumped down, landing hard enough that the ground cracked. The dozen men raised their swords and I could see more than one face that wouldn’t give up too easily. “You’ve lost,” I said. “Surrender.”

One man screamed and he was the catalyst for the others to move, their swords up and coming at me. I waited until the first reached me. He swung his sword and I ducked under, getting close and pushing him. He was rocketed off his feet, slamming into three of his people and sending them tumbling back.

The others stuttered in their run, but momentum kept them running forward. I moved to the side as the first reached me, brought up a hand and grabbed a sword from another before jumping and kicking two back. They spun, tumbling in the ground and I heard cracks where I’d kicked too hard.

I pulled the sword from the man’s grasp and threw it at three others. They managed to duck under it but the sound of it tearing through a tree trunk gave the remaining men pause.

I imagined Weaver.

“You won’t win against me,” I said. I walked over to a dead horse, pushing down the disgust and I held it up over my head. I threw it to one side, the head bowling over one man who hadn’t moved out of the way fast enough. “Now stand down.”

They did. We searched for horses that could still ride, poor things, and then for people who were still alive. There had been twenty-seven people at the start of this. Nine were dead and five were so hurt they might die if they didn’t get help. But those were the injuries we could see. We’d dropped rocks on these people and many had been hit over the head, how many had concussions now and were concussions something doctors here could deal with?

“We’ll take them to Fairmarket,” I said. “To their lord. Hopefully they’ll get medical attention.”

“Then what?” said Annex.

“Then…we’ll see,” I muttered, because I didn’t think these people would be getting the dungeon treatment.

£

The tallest structure in Fairmarket was a holdfast that had no lord. It was a tall building with high walls, made of a grey stone and with large wooden gates. The homes of Fairmarket spread around it, many of them clustering so close it was almost claustrophobic before houses and properties started sprawling out. Near the river was a tower house, made of cobblestone and looking near falling, and again homes spread out from around it, starting to skirt along the Blue Fork.

In the distance, hills rose and dipped, getting larger the further back they went, on each were large tracts of farmland, though I could see splotches of black where some farms had been burned down.

As we got into town with our hurt horses and wounded prisoners, people were waiting for us. Damon had gone ahead to warn them of our arrival and word had quickly spread out. People looked at us with harrowed expressions, dirtied faces and barely restrained anger. The raiders weren’t in chains but they were prisoners nonetheless, heads down and caked with dirt, blood and bruises.

I saw a man spit as some raiders pass and I saw another picking up a rock, getting ready to throw it.

“Poltergeist, _break,”_ I said.

Poltergeist flung his arm out before it disappeared, hitting the ground and breaking rock, flinging in every direction while bits of it were sucked into, forming a thin arm. He did this for a second before he reformed his arm and the rocks fell to the ground.

People had stepped back at the sound and even the man with the rock had pause.

It was a long trip, our horses slow and some people having been forced to walk instead of ride, but we arrived at the holdfast where the gates were opened. There were knights here, three in total and a few trained soldiers numbering less than twenty. As much as a holdfast usually protected its town, it wasn’t the same for this place. These knights and soldiers worked for Brynden Seedwill, a merchant who took taxes from most of the surrounding farmland.

He was waiting for us as we arrived, a fat man wearing Weaver’s silks, gaudy rings made of gold and silver, with ruby stones and a flowing velvet cape. He was smiling as we came in.

“Gods, Goddess, knights and _men,”_ he said, his voice loud. “Greetings to you all.”

“Greetings, my lord,” Gerard said, hoping off his horse and bowing. I did the same but didn’t bow, instead waving.

This was the first time I’d met the man even if I’d travelled here before. We’d tried to keep a low profile at first and that had meant not going to the large place we’d thought was a castle before.

“It seems you’ve cured us of our plight,” said Brynden. “You’ve gotten the outlaws.”

“Yeah,” I said. “They’re hurt and we were wondering if you get them checked out.”

“Checked out, my lady?” said Brynden.

“Looked over by a maester or a septa,” Gerard explained.

“Mother’s mercy, why?” Brynden asked. “When they are to be put to death at the town square?”

 _Fuck,_ I thought. There were servants all around us, people that would go out into town and tell this story. I wasn’t sure about how this place worked, but it was always good to have your people thinking you were working in their best interest and maybe that was what Brynden was doing? He hadn’t lifted a finger in getting these guys, but now he was going to give his people catharsis.

Damn all of this and how complicated it could be.

“I choose the Wall!” a man shouted. “I want to be taken to the Wall!”

Just like I’d known the horses would be hurt, I’d known that the options here were limited. But it wasn’t like I could really think of anything else to do so I’d gone along with it, not really thought about it. And now these men would die.

“I choose trial by combat!” another shouted.

Others shouted, choosing between trial by combat and some wanting to go to the wall. All while I stayed quiet. I wanted to have a good idea, I wanted to think that maybe I could take them to Oldstones but how much work would that be?

Prisoners were a burden because they were mouths to feed. We’d have to build jail cells for them, watch them so they didn’t break out and all of that would shift attention away from making sure we survived. But prisoners were also people. They needed to be rehabilitated, given a second chance to do better.

_But they also killed people. Maybe other people deserve rehabilitation, but is it these?_

“You may want to go to the Wall all you want,” said Brynden. “But who’s going to take you? The Brothers of the Night’s Watch don’t travel here, keeping to the King’s Road instead. And if you think I’ll expose _my_ men to your treachery, you’re sorely mistake. It will be death, for all of you.”

“Even those who wanted a trial in the eyes of the gods?” said Gerard.

Brynden’s eyes opened a little wider, straying towards me.

“Apologies, God and Goddess,” he said. “But you have to understand. Fairmarket is a town still small and if any of its soldiers were to die, its people would continue to suffer as other bandits came. Please, have the Mother’s mercy, spare us from the god’s justice.”

_Bastard._

“He’s right,” I said with a sigh. It was a stupid risk to take, weighing the life of killers against the life of innocents. “I absolve them of a need for a trial by combat.” I didn’t think I could really do that, but Brynden’s smile told me he’d go along with it. “Look over them,” I said. “Heal their injuries and when you’re done, I’ll ride out with them to Harroway where we’ll ask they be taken to the Wall.”

As I understood it was a life sentence, but what else could I do?

“As the Goddess commands,” he said. “Please, bless us with your presence while they’re healed. I will have servants prepare a feast.”

“Thanks,” I said, all of this was so tiring.

We were led to our rooms and after I asked, a bath was prepared for me. I washed and accepted some dresses that Brynden sent to my room and I wore one to the feast. Kirk and Barden had been offered new clothes too, both of them silk in blue and yellow, and we sat with Brynden at the head table at the feast.

A juggler came out and juggled, which was fun, as well as a singer with a lute. Kirk stood from our table when the singer was done, meeting the man and asking him if he could try out the lute. The man seemed to brighten at the prospect of teaching one of the gods his craft.

“Goddess Weaver will worry,” said Barden. “The trip to Harroway will be a long way by horse—”

“Quicker by boat, my lady,” said Brynden. He’d switched to that after hearing it was acceptable through Gerard and the others. “And we would gladly lend you some if it would take these men away from our lands.”

“If you’d give us people to drive the boats then we’d be happy to accept,” I said.

“It would be an honour,” he said with a large smile. “I had a thought, my lady, after tale reached me of your trouble in selling your silk.”

“Oh?” I said.

“Oh, yes,” said Brynden. “I have contacts in Harroway and Saltpans. People who know merchants from all throughout Seven Kingdoms and Essos. You need only a word from me and I am sure I could establish trade, get you better prices and perhaps bring in people that would work your silks to dresses that all the lords and ladies of our realm would want.”

“That would be good,” I said. “But I’m not the person to talk to. I’m a warrior god. Deals aren’t something I’m good at making. But if you were to come to Oldstones, talk to Weaver about it, I’m sure you’d be able to figure something out.”

“I’m honoured by your invitation, my lady,” he said and conversation dimmed after that.

The feasts went on till very late into the night and I was tired by the time I went to sleep. I was woken so early the next morning that the sun hadn’t risen yet. A man had gotten access to the dungeons and slit throats of six our raiders before he’d been caught. The killer had been executed before we’d been called to investigate.

“They’re lying,” said Barden in private, with only him, me, Kirk and Gerard. “I knew the man who was executed today and he was a known thief, yes, but not a killer.”

“There’s nothing that can be done,” said Gerard. “Brynden Seedwill wanted to appease his people and he succeeded. They would curse us if they thought we were punishing him for giving them justice.”

“Fuck all of this,” Kirk muttered.

“Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “Change of plans. We’re going back to Oldstones”

“With _them?_ ” said Barden. We still had ten raiders with us. All of them had been hurt and three still looked in critical condition. We had enough horse for us to ride, but Gerard told me a few of them would die during the journey.

“With them,” I said “They’ll still be going to the Wall, but I don’t want to take the chance of angry town’s people chasing after us. We can beat them back but do we _want_ to?”

“Only a fool would attack us,” said Barden.

“Some men be fools,” said Kirk said sagely.

We asked for supplies and Brynden gave them to us, even food for the journey and a donkey-cart to carry them. Horses were too expensive he said, an apology in his voice.

We left with our prisoners at first light.


	5. Chapter 5

**Wanton**

“You know what’d be great right now?” I said and there was a bit of longing in my voice. The air around us was hot and the ground was wet. It had rained in the middle of the night, a heavy shower that ended pretty quickly, but we hadn’t been expecting it and now _everything_ was wet.

Olive was taking things slow, her bruised metal men walking ahead of us, testing the ground so Everett could see if it was unstable, and our cow-mounts were ambling along, the sound of metal against stone filling the otherwise silent wilderness.

This wasn’t productive. Olive and Everett were as worn as I was and griping about it didn’t help, but I felt _miserable_ and sometimes it was easy to pull other people in with me.

“A warm bath?” said Olive. She was to my left, sitting on a pile of wet blankets that were padding for her mount. When we’d first been going to Seagard, we’d underestimated the toll the mounts would have on our nethers and it was a discomfort that was still sharp against my mind. At first we’d padded with silk, but getting to Seagard we’d sold that and bought cheap blankets instead.

“Salted food,” Everett added. He was ahead of us, his eyes forward and watching the ground we were stepping on. It was the early hours of the morning; the sun was just now starting to rise but there was enough light that we could see where we were going.

Hills climbed and fell, trees growing tall and thin around us, and from our vantage point, I could see the slow waters of the winding Green Fork.

_So far away from home even with how long we’ve travelled,_ the thought came.

“A car,” I said. “Imagine how much faster we’d be if we had one of those.”

“And imagine it with my power,” said Olive, longing finding her own voice. “All this rock and shit would get in the way of a normal car, but with me there. It’s be cake.”

_“Cake,”_ said Everett.

“Chocolate cake,” I said.

“Cheese cake,” said Everett.

“Red velvet cake,” Olive added.

“Guys, _no,”_ said Everett. “We’re just torturing ourselves.”

_“Pizza,”_ said Olive.

“Pepperoni pizza,” I said and my mouth watered. My mind remembered the last time I’d eaten pizza, made the memory so vivid that I could almost taste it now. Then it was gone and I was left with the worst sort of anguish.

“I’d even go for Hawaiian right now,” said Olive.

“Excuse you?” said Everett. “Hawaiian is the _best.”_

“I mean you’re entitled to your opinion,” said Olive. “Even if it’s _objectively_ wrong.”

“Guys. Guys,” I said. “Can we all just agree that tuna on pizza is trash?”

A moment passed before Everett glanced back, a large grin on him. Olive snorted, letting out a chortle that filled me with the same. There was nothing funny, honestly our situation was bad because this trip was taking _forever_ but reminiscing also felt good.

“Honestly,” said Olive. “I’d even eat tuna pizza right now.”

Everett hummed and with Olive giving me a long look, I finally nodded. She smiled, looking forward.

We started moving through trees, moving along a thin little path that forced us to go in a line. Olive had her metal men at the front and at the back, while she was sandwiched between Everett and my cow-mounts. This made the trip slower because Olive’s power worked better if she could see the stuff she was moving. Right now, she was more laden with mistakes, her minions drifting a lot more and crashing into trees, and more scratches and scuff marks into the metal.

It was with relief that near mid-afternoon we cut out of the trees, moving alongside a short cliff with shrubs growing out of it, forcing us to keep alongside the Green Fork even when we wanted to go further inland. Near evening we stopped, Everett looking up at the cliff and taking it in.

“I think it’s time we moved inland,” he said with a sigh.

“Thought you said inland was bad,” said Olive. “No water.”

“Yeah,” Everett said with a sigh. “But we’ve already been gone more than two months and the others might start worrying. Knowing Kathy, she might want to send people to Seagard to make sure we’re okay.”

“That’d be screwed up,” I said. The trip to Seagard was _perilous._ When we’d been going there, we’d headed towards the coast, thinking that it would be an easy trip. But pretty quickly in, we’d found we overlooked a _lot._ The map we’d been using had been out of date for one thing and for another, it hadn’t been interested in topography.

We’d thought the ground was largely even and it hadn’t. There’d been large hills that dipped and arose, the banks of rivers had suddenly risen, with sheer cliffs keeping us from the waters. Then, when we’d started to adapt we’d reached the swamp. Large tracts that were mostly water, sometimes it could be ankle deep and we’d be able to trudge through it, but then the ground would suddenly drop, making our metal man fall in and forcing me to go ghost to pull them out of the water. Then there’d been the _mosquitoes._

Nevermore had I wished that Taylor was close, even if _somehow_ a near-death battle would have found reason to happen. I liked the girl, she could be awesome at the best of times, but it didn’t take much to notice that fights tended to happen when she was around.

Now I imagined _them_ taking the trip and it would be infinitely worse. They didn’t have cow-mounts to move fast, didn’t have Everett’s eyes to tell them when the ground would give and they didn’t have me to pull stuff out of the swampy waters.

It would take them _much_ longer than two months to reach Seagard if they even reached it at all.

“Yeah,” said Olive, “but _Taylor.”_

Kathy was hot and Taylor was cold. Kathy would want to move while Taylor would want to stay still. She wouldn’t want to move. But how long would it be until one of them forced some type of action? Because even if they were different, they were both stubborn and that could mean talking past each other.

Everett sighed. “We’re cutting inland,” he said and he hopped off his cow-mount, stretching a little before he went to the back, undoing the knots that covered the supplies on his mount.

“I’m gonna go off for a bit,” said Olive. I looked in her direction and didn’t say anything. She didn’t look at me, but she _knew_ I was looking at her. “Shut up, wispy,” she muttered before she went into the trees, disappearing.

I leaned forward, my right hand going onto my chin and nestling my beard. Once upon a time it had been wispy, but now it was starting to get fuller. Everett’s was still patchy, but his hair had grown longer, almost reaching the nape of his neck, and even unwashed, he made it look good.

He reached for a sword amongst his supplies, struggled as he hefted it up, over the bars framing the back and then letting it fall. It didn’t make a sound as it hit the ground.

“Wait,” I said. “You don’t want Olive to help you with the sword, but you can just throw it on the ground.”

“Sword’s built to lose all of its energy in the ground,” he said, digging through a lot of crud until he found his battery pack. He shrugged it on, jumped over the bars and landed with a grunt. “The energy from Olive’s minions is too concentrated and it could overload the energy redirection.”

“Guess that makes sense,” I said.

He hefted up his sword again and stabbed it into the ground. The sword was large and blocky, blunt along the edges, but it sunk into the ground without trouble.

“What I wouldn’t do for a HUD right now,” he muttered. He pulled of his pack, looked at the little screen which had lines bobbing up and down. He started moving the knobs at the bottom of the screen, making some of the lines disappear while others got longer.

He touched the hilt of his sword and the lines changed.

“Okay,” he said after a few minutes. “There’s gonna be a rumble.”

“Wait,” I said and I jumped off my cow-mount. I’d fallen off more than once on the things, mostly because Olive was a speeding maniac, and I didn’t want that to happen again. “Okay.”

He held the hilt again, a five second hold. A crack opened along the ground, starting from the sword, moving further and further away until it hit one side of the cliff, starting to climb up. The crack got larger, spreading into numerous lines that got bigger and bigger the further up it went. In seconds the lines reached a critical point and chunks of rock sloughed off, crashing down the hill, breaking apart and filling the air with dust.

It took five minutes before the entire thing settled.

“My turn,” I said and I started forward in a walk, getting close to the first rocks before I switched. It was like bursting out and compressing into a point at the same time; the world dulled, my vision being cut down until I expanded my reach. I lost the impulses of my body, lost a bit of the longing I felt for the old world as my body disappeared, lost the non-feeling coming from the left arm, and instead devoting more attention to the new sensation provided by my telekinesis.

In this form I was _force._ I touched and pushed everything within me, dictating the amount of force I could apply to it. At the fringes of my range, the force I could apply was weaker, but my centre I was so strong that I could move a truck if I wanted to. I surged forward, touching everything to get an awareness of it.

Dust seeped into me and it was easy to brush it aside with small pushes. There were small rocks that I pushed up, sent in a haphazard circular motion that would have them slam into other rocks, making them into dust which would require less force. There were big rocks and those I had to push towards my centre, where I was strongest and it didn’t need so much of my attention to apply the force.

The start was hard, meticulous, but as more rocks swirled around in my power, chaos started to reign. Rocks slammed into other rocks turning them from monsters to dust. I pushed it all out of me as I climbed up the side of the cliff, turning more of the rock into dust.

I lost myself in the chaos, lost myself in the work until I started to feel the strain. It felt like my body wasn’t getting enough oxygen even if I didn’t feel my lungs burning. Every part of me wanted to condense into a point and it was taking active effort not to just allow it. So I surged down onto even ground and got back into my human form.

The world had changed when I got back. Olive was back and a fire had been set, the deer we’d killed and skinned burning over a fire. There was water out and pieces of stale bread so hard it could cause a concussion if it hit someone over the head.

Not the food I was used to, but my stomach still yearned as it spotted the meat.

“Almost done,” said Everett. “Shouldn’t be long.” 

“Found some berries,” said Olive. She reached for a cloth and threw it at me. I brought up my left arm and the bag hit me in the face. “Oh,” said Olive, eyes wide. “Sorry. I—”

“It’s fine,” I said with a grin. “I forget about it too.”

The berries were a _godsend_ and I gobbled them down before I could even think about sharing them down with the others.

“Fuck. Sorry. I should have offered.”

“We already took our share,” said Olive.

Everett was too busy focusing on his map to pay me any attention.

“What’s the route, boss man?” I asked.

“South,” he said, “but we’ll have to take it at an angle. This swamp is _big_ and I don’t want us getting caught in it again.”

“We should _totally_ think about boats,” said Olive. “In case we ever go to Seagard again. It’ll be faster than _this.”_

“True,” said Everett. “But none of us know anything about boats.”

“Can’t be too hard,” I said. “We just have to make it float, then we can make Olive move it with her power.”

“You and me,” said Olive. She pointed at her heart then pointed at mine. “Connected.”

I smiled.

“That’ll have its own dangers,” said Everett and he sighed. “But it might be faster than this.”

“Definitely faster than this,” I said.

“Let’s eat, get you back to work then we’ll get moving,” he said.

We moved into the night after scaling the cliff, there was a crescent moon in the sky and its low light was enough for us to keep moving. It was _slow,_ slower still when Olive started to get drowsy, but we made up for lost time. We took a few hours’ nap then moved before day broke. We kept to this schedule for three days before we spotted a little village.

We took time to hunt, selling our quarry for eggs, salt, oil, vegetables and bread. We stopped at an inn, listened to some stories of the goings on in Westeros.

“…some hedge wizards,” a patron was saying. “I’m surprised Lord Tully would let them call themselves god.”

“Even a hedge wizard can be powerful,” a woman said. “Maybe Ol’ Hoster’s craven.”

“Watch your mouth,” the man said. “Lord Tully’s the greatest lord the Riverlands ever had.”

The three of us shared looks and sinking feelings as we left, taking a worn path that took us south-east but it was guaranteed to keep us out of the swamp. We moved faster by unspoken agreement. I wasn’t too sure what the others were thinking, but Taylor’s luck for finding fights kept running through my head.

What if something had happened? What if they’d fought and some of them had died?

They had powers, sure, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be killed.

In the next village we found torches and with those we moved through the night, only slept for a few hours before taking off. Our water supplies started to run out and on most days, I felt light-headed because of the rationing. Olive got more water than me and Everett and for that we were rewarded by faster rides until we reached an abandoned village with a dry well.

“There’s water but it’s too deep,” said Everett. He looked in bad shape, bags under his eyes and his hair mangy with twigs and grass. I probably looked the same way. “I think I can get it out.”

It took us a day before we got water and the result was that Everett had had to make a lake where the village had been, closing off points where the water moved below ground so all of it congealed at this point. It was muddy at first, but after sifting and boiling we had water.

There was no time to savour this, because even if we’d survived, we didn’t know if the same was true for our friends.

We left, taking detours every time, we saw little paths and we were lucky because they usually led to villages. We hunted, didn’t mind that our salt ran out or our vegetable or the fact that we had to dunk our bread in water to be able to eat it. We kept forward.

Even with our pace, it took almost a month before we spotted the Blue Fork. I felt equal parts relief and dread at seeing its clear waters.

Olive pushed faster and neither Everett or I complained, even as my body complained because of the bumping. We saw the hill that Oldstones stood in, half a day later, saw the bridge leading from the northern bank to the southern bank and with it were four hands that were probably forty feet tall.

They were thin from a distance, but as we started climbing the hill, they got thicker and thicker. It boded ill, seeing those hands, imagining gentle Theo freaking out and channelling Taylor, wanting to scare people through a show of power.

_Who’s dead,_ I thought and my mind kept going back to Raymancer, knowing that he’d been hit with too much radiation and that there was nothing that I could do. I’d felt powerless, having to _push_ myself to stay in my ghost form and I’d survived while he’d died.

“There are people up there,” said Everett, his voice hollow. “Too many.”

“If they killed any of them…” Olive said, not hollow but filled with anger. My hand became a fist and I nodded.

“Stay on alert,” said Tecton. “We’ll take them from an angle while pushing for the castle. We’ll close off their retreat paths, divide them, then pick them off.”

We nodded and started moving, stopping a few times to check for any people that were close. There weren’t any and we continued up, keeping away from the army at our gates. Bugs drifted towards us and they became a face.

_Weaver._

“Good,” the bugs said, hissing and crackling. I hadn’t heard bug speak for so long that I couldn’t read anything from the tone.

“Who’s dead?” I said.

“No one,” said Weaver and I slumped in relief. A month’s worth of tension suddenly disappearing.

⸎

Hugs first because hugs were important. My eyes were burning all through the way. I felt tired and hungry and my body ached. I felt _fatigued_ on an emotional level and that seemed to hurt the most.

So it was hugs first.

Kathy first because of all of them I knew her the longest. She’d grown a little taller since I’d last seen her, her hair was silky and smelled nice, but there was something behind her eyes. Then it was Ava because I knew her second longest. She’d also grown, but there was more muscle on her; her hair was tied in a braid, cut a little shorter while still not being short.

Theo next because of the three of them he was the easiest. He went along with the hug. He was already tall but hadn’t grown much, his was thinner, his cheeks hollower and it was a shame because the little chubbiness had been something that had attracted me to him a little. He smiled through the hug, patting me on the back.

Kirk was shorter, lithe and muscled.

“Can I hug you?” I asked because he didn’t like hugs unless they were with his family.

“Sure,” he said. “You look like you need it.”

“Yeah,” I said with a laugh, tears falling out. I hugged him and he was stiff for a few seconds before he let down his guard, letting out a sigh.

Taylor looked at me impassively, standing at the back of the group and not coming closer. She seemed a little surprised that I hugged her and through the contact I felt her heart beat a little harder.

“Thanks for keeping them safe,” I whispered and she gave me a stiff nod.

 I pulled back, wiping at my eyes. There were people around us I didn’t know, people who were watching us openly and others that were trying to seem like they were doing other things but really watching us.

“Food first then a debrief,” said Taylor, all business.

“Food and a bath,” said Olive.

_“Please,”_ I added.

“We have some flowers that make it nicer,” said Ava.

“It’ll take a while before the water’s boiled,” said Taylor. “But there’s some food already prepared.”

“Food,” said Everett, his voice reedy. _“Please.”_

Eggs and fried bacon, all of them salted. There were onions that were fried, soft, _fresh_ bread and tea with honey. It was hard to tell myself to stop. I ate too quickly and by the time my body told me I was full, I felt too lethargic to move.

We stalled the debrief because the water was done and there was a bath. I spent close to an hour just soaking, letting the heat seep into my bones and the perfumes run up my nose into my soul. I worked off my food and I was a little sleepy as I walked into what felt like a war room.

The room was largely bare, a circular table growing out of the floor, with nine chairs sitting around it, silk cushions on the seats and backrest. I let out a content sigh as I sat back, smiling as I looked at the others and finally frowning when I realised there was someone new.

“Okay,” said Olive. “I’ll bite. Who are you?”

“I am Barden, my lady,” said the boy, average height and with a wiry frame; his skin was tanned, his hair was dark and tousled, and he had very expressive brown eyes. “I go by the godling name, Poltergeist.”

“Godling name?” I said, my mind catching.

“Taylor,” said Everett, a sigh in his voice. “What did you do?”

“We’re gods now,” said Ava, a little resentment in her voice.

“Something we all decided was for the best,” Kathy stepped in.

“But _gods?”_ said Everett. “Do you know the crap that that comes with? Wars were fought on our earth because of people and their gods, there were _still_ wars being fought and—”

“Apologies, my lord,” said Barden. “But it is better to be a god than a witch. Since I have become a godling, I no longer fear being caught and sold a slave.”

“Slave?” I said, shaking my head. There was just so much that it felt like my mind wasn’t picking up on every detail. “And godling? I feel like there’s a lot I’m missing and no one’s explaining it.”

“Lord Wanton,” Barden said, taking a deep breath. “You’re my god-father.”

“Um…no?” I said.

“What he means is that he got his powers from you,” said Kathy, a sigh and a smile on her. “We think he might be a relative or something.”

“But this is another earth,” I said. “That can’t be possible.”

“Doesn’t really need to be a relative for powers to move over,” said Everett. “Sometimes it’s being close to someone. Some of the stuff I’ve read, adopted kids can get powers from their parents, sometimes they even get new powers of their own.”

“But I don’t think I was _close_ with him,” I said. “If we’d hooked up, I think I’d remember.”

“Hooked up?” Barden whispered to Kathy.

“Means had sex.”

Barden’s eyes opened wide as he turned to look at me, his face going pink. He opened his mouth and closed it. I took a breath, _steeling_ myself. I couldn’t quite read his expression but being in the past, I already knew what he would think.

_Fuck it,_ I thought, _not going to let it get to me._

“That—I—You—” he said.

“That didn’t happen and I don’t think that’s what it would take,” said Everett. “It’s gotta be more than that. Maybe something else we don’t understand yet?”

“It’s something to be on the lookout for at the very least,” said Taylor. “It’s only one data point, but we’re giving people the potential to have powers. That’ll have an effect on the politics of this place.”

Everett took a breath. “From the beginning please. What are we dealing with, from highest to lowest priority.”

“We have an invite to King’s Landing sent by King Robert,” said Taylor. “He sent his first one maybe two months ago and we stalled, said there was a lot to deal with here. He sent another message a little less than a month ago, telling us he was holding a tourney and he expected our presence.”

“That sounds like he’s ordering us,” said Olive.

“He is,” said Kathy.

“Well, _fuck_ him,” said Olive. “We’ll go if we want. Not go if we don’t want.”

“That’s just begging for trouble,” said Theo. “We’re all worried that he’ll call his banners and we’ll have to defend ourselves. Which we _can,”_ Theo said when Olive moved to speak, “but _should_ we?”

“We shouldn’t,” said Everett. “We were supposed to keep a low profile.”

“That was unrealistic, though,” said Kirk. “We’ve been here over half a year. It was a matter of time before someone found us.”

_Fuck._

We’d been travelling so long, not really paying attention to the passing of time and it was so depressing to think about how long we’d been gone. I thought about my mom and dad, and how they’d be dealing with my disappearance. Thought about the Protectorate and if they were still looking for us.

There was just _so_ much multiverse and the probability of them finding us.

_Slow breath in and another out. Try to focus on a silver lining._

Except there was none.

I wasn’t the only one hit hard by the words. A moment of silence stretched, all of us sitting stiffly save Barden who looked on everyone with a bit of confusion.

“How were you planning to deal with it?” Everett asked.

“We have no choice but to go,” said Taylor.

“What we’ve been stuck on is who will go,” said Kathy. “Whether it’s smart splitting up when we’re stronger as a whole.”

“We have people to look after,” said Theo, “and we can’t just leave them.”

“Things will be easier with all of us back, though,” said Taylor. “We can split up with big numbers. Half us leaving while the other stay here and keep working on alliances.”

“Alliances,” said Everett, saying the words in his suspicious voice.

“We’ve been here six months, maybe more, and we’re not any closer to going home,” said Taylor. People shifted but didn’t say anything, resignation drifted through the room. “You have supplies, but you’re not going to be able to build any good tech in a few days. Everything I know about tinkers say they slowly scale up—”

“Yeah, I get it,” Everett said, his tone tight.

“We need to set up so people come to us with their wares, and that means having something that’ll make them come to us. We’re already thinking about setting up a silk road. We were planning a trip into Fairmarket to speak to Brynden, the mayor of Fairmarket to introducing us to his contacts.”

“The trip should be faster with Olive back,” said Kathy. “We’re not hiding our powers anymore.”

“Can we not for about a week?” said Olive. “I’m all travelled out.”

Kathy nodded. “We’re not rushing anything,” she said. “Taylor’s building up her silk anyway.”

“That’s one,” said Everett. “The people outside.”

“Lord Bracken’s bannermen,” said Taylor. “He’s an emissary to Lord Hoster Tully, and he’s here to make a deal that’ll have us be a part of the Riverlands. Before him Lord Blackwood was here and he left worrying that war might break out.”

“Fuck _me,”_ Everett muttered, dropping his face onto his hands. “And should we expect it?” he said through his hands. “War?”

Silence and that worried me.

“Please say this is all a massive joke,” I said.

“Taylor and Lord Bracken are both stubborn,” said Kathy. “They have ideas and they’re both not willing to budge.”

_“You’re_ not willing to budge too,” said Taylor.

“Lord Bracken’s a douche,” said Kathy.

“A sexist douche that can’t admit when a woman’s better,” said Ava.

“In defence to him, this isn’t a progressive time,” I said.

“We know that,” said Ava.

“Still doesn’t make him any less a douche,” Kathy added.

“We take three day breaks between talks to calm down,” said Taylor.

“He’ll be grinning like an idiot since you’re here Ev,” said Kathy. “A _real_ man taking leadership.” 

“It feels like you don’t like this guy,” I said. Kathy shot a scowl in my direction before she smiled.

“Fuck, I missed you,” she said.

There were bandits we had as prisoners. They were supposed to be going to the Wall but we didn’t have resources to make the trip and now they worked on felling trees so we could expand the castle grounds.  Some of the bandits’ victims had also come to live with us and they were the people who had houses on the grounds outside. Theo and Kirk were working double-time to fix things up so they’d live with us underground instead of out there where a torrent of arrows could plough them down.

There was just so much and at some point I switched off, too tired from the trip, just wanting to relax.

⸎

“Good morning, god-father,” Barden said. I’d mostly slept for two days straight, only waking up to eat, maybe stretch my legs for a bit before going back to my room. Today was the first day I was really out, walking amongst the people and getting of their day-to-day.

Barden found me standing in front of a seven-sided building with a seven-pointed star on its doorway.

“God-son,” I said with a nod. I was in clean, beige silk, palazzo-esque pants and a long-sleeved blouse. “What’s up with this?” I said, nodding towards the church.

“It’s a sept, god-father,” he said. “A place of prayer for the Seven. Lord Bracken came with statues of his gods and Lady Weaver asked Lords Annex and Golem to build this sept. Lord Bracken comes in to pray every morning.”

_What Everett was talking about,_ I thought. _People are bucking against us calling ourselves gods._

“Should we expect problems? From Bracken?”

“Lady Weaver says no,” he said. He went quiet, looking towards the church, glancing at me sometimes.

“Say it,” I said.

“My lord?”

“You want to say something. Go ahead.”

“I…do not want to imposition, god-father,” he said. “But, I was wondering if I could see how you use your power. Katherine said it might help me get better in combat.”

“Okay,” I said with a shrug. “Let me see it.”

He stepped back and flung his arm, making it disappear. I saw it when it hit the ground. The earth stirred, some of it flung out while parts of it were drawn in, forming the vague impression of a hand.

I went into my ghost form and I felt the hand. I felt how his force was stronger than mine, more erratic, moving without rhyme or reason. Where I didn’t have a clear form, I could feel that his power took the form of a hand, shifting between a normal hand and a clawed limb.

I turned human again, stepping away from the dirt he was flinging away with his transformed hand.

“How much can you control the direction of movement?” I asked.

“I can control it if I make the arm longer and thinner,” he said. “But it’s not as strong. When I make it shorter, I can lift boulders, but that just throws them and I have to sort of _direct_ it.”

I shrugged. “Then that’s how your power works,” I said. “Your power does what it does and you have to learn how to use it. Learn to play with it. Switch from having a long arm to a short one for a bit of control, that sort of stuff.”

“There’s a training yard,” said Barden. “Perhaps you can show me what you mean there?”

“Sure,” I said.

There were already people in the training yard. Ava was training with a strapping guy with luscious hair, both of them holding wooden swords and bashing them together. Theo was training with two foreign looking guys, one of them black and another with olive toned skin. They had swords while Theo practised dodging, using his power to push himself away, land in rolls and coming up to dodge attacks. He was dodging even as the men brandished their swords at a distance, making quick cover and trying to flank them.

Kirk and Olive were running laps around the perimeter, vaulting over obstacles that had been put up. Kathy, Taylor and some old men stood in one corner, watching the training and speaking in low voices.

“I usually practise at the back,” he said. “Make sure I don’t fling rocks at people.”

“Then let’s get to it,” I said. The guy took to lessons with enthusiasm, pushing himself to get something done, but his minds was very compartmentalised. I taught him one thing and it didn’t feel like he put things together until I told him to.

I spent most of the day doing that, not focusing on everything around me until evening came and we were invited to have dinner with Lord Bracken.

Things went to shit pretty quickly, all because of a cross Ava had made for Barden’s sister, Arina.

“You say you aren’t here to change our customs,” said Lord Bracken. He was a short and wide man, his shoulders broad and his belly protruding out; he had a blocky head and a greyed, bushy moustache. There were three other men on his side of the table, all dressed in loud colours and with images sown at their breast or into their capes. Ever since this had started they’d been silent.

“And yet, _brazenly,_ you bring your gods here,” he said.

“Arina has the choice to choose her own gods,” said Weaver.

“Had I not shared bread with you before, I would think you blissfully naive,” Lord Bracken said, injecting _all_ the condescension he could mustered into the words. “But you aren’t. For a—”

The man wearing black robes cleared his throat and Lord Bracken stopped, grey eyes scowling at the maester.

“You’re smart, so this _has_ to be deliberate.”

“If we were smart,” Grace muttered. “Wouldn’t we wait until _after_ you’re gone? I mean, _this_ is almost done.”

Tecton let out a loud breath out, scowling at Grace before he looked at Lord Bracken. He sat forward and put on his therapist expression.

“Forgive us, my lord,” he said. “But the norms of where we come from are different. It isn’t an attack or some political play to share your religion. We promise we weren’t trying anything underhanded.”

“So you say,” said Lord Bracken. “But what is it you’re doing? On one hand you promise that you’re not trying to gain power. But on the other you make moves that say otherwise. In Fairmarket you changed our laws, stayed an execution just so you could have the prisoners as your own; you’re trying to establish a trade route through Oldstones, which is virtually screaming of your intention to stay here. Above and beyond all that, you disregard the word of King Robert with nary a second thought.”

Grace sighed and Weaver only sat straight. There was a _lot_ going on and I had the feeling Tecton and I were missing important context.

“My lord,” said Tecton, voice low and slow, hands in front of him. He kept Lord Bracken’s gaze, soft where the man’s was hard. “We are lost.”

Surprise flickered through his eyes. Weaver hadn’t told him.

“We were fighting others like us, with…” and he sighed, “godly powers, and they did something that sent us here. What me and my team are trying to do more than _anything_ is get back home.”

“So you say,” said Lord Bracken.

“And so it is,” Weaver put in, her voice cold. “Context matters, my lord, and it’s what you’re missing. We’re trying to get home on another _world._ We’re not talking about crossing the ocean, instead we’re talking about tearing a door way through reality itself to make that way back. Can you honestly say, my lord, that we’re only _saying_ we’re working towards that end?”

Lord Bracken bristled.

“We need resources and those aren’t just going to be given to us,” Weaver continued. “So we need some way to get money, establishing trade is a way towards doing that. Part of establishing trade will mean people travelling here, which means we’ll need to buy food to feed them, make coming here something worth doing.”

“And undoing our laws are a part of this?” he countered. “Not kneeling to the king?”

“Kneeling is a good way of getting involved, my lord,” said Weaver, “and above all else, that’s something we won’t do.”

“But you _have,”_ he said. “You are involved even now. Small as you influence is, it’s rippling out. You call yourselves gods and people will find reason to follow you, _pray_ to you. And as we’ve seen from Fairmarket, you’ll answer when they do.”

“It feels like you’re trying to tell us we shouldn’t _help_ people,” said Grace. She leaned forward, giving the man a hard gaze.

“What I’m telling you,” he said, “is that you can’t have it one way and not the other. You can’t only involve yourselves when it’s convenient to yourselves and otherwise disregard everything we hold dear.”

“How can we make this work?” Tecton said, getting a word in before Weaver or Grace could. Both of them were too stubborn and both of them didn’t like Lord Bracken, which was playing into this.

“Give us the prisoners,” he said. “You say you want them sent to the Wall. We can take them there.”

“Last time I let those guys out of my sight they died,” said Grace. “I’m not inclined to let them go again.”

“Then perhaps a compromise,” said one of Lord Bracken’s men. He’d been so quiet that he’d become background. For the life of me I couldn’t remember his name. “My oldest son could become your ward until such a time that you’ve received word of their arrival at the Wall.”

“What?” I said and I could see Tecton recoil.

“Acceptable,” said Weaver, which made my head snap in her direction.

“Second,” said Lord Bracken. “When we leave, we’ll leave the sept and the septa and septons. You won’t stop them in their duties and you won’t stop anyone who prays to the Seven.”

“Only if they won’t stop anyone who prays to the Old Gods or the Judeo-Christian God or any other god they want to.”

“Judeo-Christian God?” said the maester.

“The god some of us pray to,” said Everett.

Lord Bracken frowned.

“This isn’t negotiable, my lord,” said Taylor. 

Lord Bracken gave a stiff nod. “Lastly, you’ll go to King’s Landing,” he said. “His Grace invited you to a tourney and you’ve been dithering.”

“We’ll discuss between ourselves,” said Weaver and with that, our dinner ended.

“A hostage?” Everett said when we were far enough away from them. “Are we really fucking doing that?”

“It’s the path of least resistance,” said Taylor.

“The fuck does that even mean?” said Everett. “Kathy, you can’t…” and he trailed off because Kathy could.

_We’ve been gone for months. There’s a lot of shit we missed and it’s starting to show._

“We have a plan, Ev,” said Kathy. “It looks…fucked up, but trust us?”

Everett let out a breath, held up his hands and walked away.

“One of us should go after him,” said Kathy.

“No,” I said. “He’ll tinker, clear his head, then come back to talk things out.”

“You’re taking this well,” said Taylor.

I grinned and shrugged.

_No I’m not. All of this is fucked up. We should be at home, with our parents. We should be training and protecting people, but all of it should be safe, with adults looking after us._

_I’m not supposed to be going through all of this shit. Everett’s not supposed to be going through all of this._ You’re _not supposed to be going through all this. But you fuckin’ are._

“What’s going on?” I asked, because that was easier on them and it would be easier when Everett was more open to hearing it.

“We’re fast-tracking things,” said Kathy. “That guy’s been muttering about getting an in with us since they got here and we gave him the opportunity.”

“By taking a hostage?” I said.

Kathy shrugged.

“It’s how this place works,” said Taylor. “We can fight it or we can play into it.”

“And you’re choosing the latter,” I said. Taylor didn’t answer me. The night was silent and even our whispers seemed to drift further than I was used to. I took a breath and held it in, counting to five before I let it out. “Did you even care about those prisoners or was that an act?”

“Fuck _you,”_ said Kathy. “Of course, I fuckin’ care. Why’d you think I jumped through so many hoops? Fielding all the shits everyone’s giving me because they’re here.”

I held up my hands. “Sorry,” I said. “Just…” _You’ve spent a lot of time with Taylor and I’m worried you’re starting to think like her._

“What we did was alliance building,” said Taylor. “His son is our ward and we have to treat him as if he’s one of our own. He’ll be trying to turn us, but we’ll be doing the same. Hopefully we’ll be more successful. Whatever the case, we have his father who wants more of a voice. Lord Bracken is…autocratic.”

“I noticed,” I said. “So he’s right? You two are trying to take over? Because it feels like it.”

Taylor and Kathy shared a look. I wasn’t as good at reading people as Everett was, but I knew the look.

“Yes, then,” I said. “Fuck _me,”_ I muttered.

“Alex…” said Kathy. She looked at Taylor, getting a small nod. “Have you ever thought about…us not being able to go back?”

I took a breath and it was shaky.

“Everett is a seismic tinker,” I said, the words coming out hollow.

“He is,” said Taylor. I noticed for the first time that we’d stopped.

I let out a sigh.

“It’s not a sure thing,” said Kathy. “But…Taylor and I are preparing for the worst. What if we’re stuck here for the rest of our lives? We have to make sure we can actually _live.”_

I didn’t say anything, only listening to the sinking feeling in my stomach.

“Alex?” said Kathy.

“You guys go ahead,” I said. “I’m just going to…”

“Okay,” said Taylor. Kathy raised a brow, giving her a look and eventually she let it go. She gave me a pat on the arm before the two of them left. I exploded and imploded, become a whirl of shifting force.

⸎

A thunderous roar cut through the air and more than one person screamed, a wife or child held near. The earth shuddered and the thunder got louder, starting in front of us then moving around. More shaking, more roaring as the ground cracked and shifted, trees suddenly falling and a thick cloud of dirt filled the air.

Before the rumbles stopped there was another, this time the dirt shooting up into the air. We were lucky from being covered by the stuff because the wind was moving just right to push the cloud away. The rumble continued but it went quieter, the shaking getting less and less until it finally stopped.

Then _another_ rumble started and this one was louder than the first two.

I’d told Everett what Taylor and Kathy thought and he was stewing. He hadn’t said a lot, mostly keeping himself in his workshop tinkering. Taylor had mentioned that they wanted this, a wider and deeper moat around the castle and it felt like he was rushing through things.

I gave him a glance, watching the small pout as he looked at the wavy lines on his battery pack, turning knobs to make lines disappear. He touched the hilt of his sword and three seconds later, another crack reverberated. Everett suddenly looked up, his eyes going to one of the four giant, hand-pillars Theo had made.

“Kirk,” he said.

“Yeah, boss?”

Everett pointed at the hand-pillar. “I miscalculate and cracks caught into that pillar,” he said. “Check it out?”

“Sure,” said Kirk and he started moving—

“Wait,” said Taylor. She turned to Everett. “Is it time sensitive?”

“It’s worrying,” Everett said, his tone tight. “But the tower won’t fall for maybe a few years without additional weight or stress. I won’t be able to keep making earthquakes though.”

All of us had come to watch the show and though there were others, they were all keeping their distance. There was room to speak.

“I want to head to Fairmarket,” said Taylor. “I haven’t been out in a while and since I’m the backbone of our industry, it’ll be a while before I can travel again. I want to take this chance now so I can start talking to Brynden Seedwill.”

“Thank god,” Kathy muttered. “I did _not_ want to do that.”

“Doesn’t that mean you’ll be stopping things with Lord Bracken?” asked Theo. “You two have a rapport.”

“Things are almost done with Lord Bracken,” said Taylor. “We just have to decide who’s going to King’s Landing. Reinforce things about religion and maybe discuss loans from him so he feels he has leverage over us.”

“Last feels like a big deal,” Kirk muttered.

“He’ll bring it up and we’ll say we’ll think about it,” said Taylor. “Then we’ll tell him of our intention for King’s Landing and how fast we’ll move and he’ll probably want to get ahead of us. Lord Bracken mentioned something about summer ending and the harvest starting. He’s primed for that to happen because like Blackwood, he’s afraid that either we or King Robert will do something stupid and start war. He doesn’t want the Riverlands involved in all of that.”

“Which is why he’s pushing us to go to King’s Landing,” I said. “It’s far from the Riverlands.”

Taylor nodded.

“For sure I’ll be going, then,” said Olive. “Cause I’m the magic school bus.”

Taylor nodded. “And I can’t go to keep working on silk and honey,” she said.

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” Kathy muttered.

“Because you know _I_ can’t go because I won’t be able to tinker on the road,” said Everett.

“But you should,” said Kathy. “You’re the leader here.”

“An important part about being leader is delegating,” said Everett. “I know you guys think that I won’t be able to do it. Build something that gets us home.”

Ava’s breath hitched and her eyes went wide; Theo’s hands clenched into fists; Kirk slumped; and Olive look shell-shocked.

_They didn’t know,_ I thought.

“What?” said Theo. He rounded on Taylor. “You think we aren’t going back?”

“I think that it’s worth planning for the worst,” said Taylor.

“And what about the end of the world that’s in less than a year?” said Theo. “What about Jack Slash, the people he’ll kill?”

“Theo…” said Taylor.

“All of that will be _my_ fault because I goaded him into it,” said Theo. “All because _I_ wanted to survive. You’re telling me that I won’t be able to do anything to stop them? To save the innocent people that’ll be hurt.”

“You _will,”_ said Everett. “Because even if they don’t believe it, _I_ know that I can do it. I already have idea, okay?” He looked from Theo to everyone else. “Okay? I _will_ get us home, but I just need time.”

“Doesn’t feel like we have all that much time,” said Kirk. “Six months and nothing’s really happened. We’re just surviving.”

“But I have supplies, now. I’m tinkering,” said Everett.

“How long will it take before you build something useful?” said Kirk, not accusation in his tone, but a hollowness.

“I’m staying,” said Everett. He swallowed, his eyes without expression as he looked at Taylor. “I’m building. Get us resources, get us metal and rocks and _anything_ I might be able to use to get us back.”

“It’ll mean deals,” said Taylor, “like the one I made yesterday. It’ll mean making an impact on how this world is run.”

“Guys,” I said. Everyone turned to me. “Let’s remember who we are, _what_ we are. We’re heroes. We can’t be blinded by what we want, forgetting everyone that’ll be affected by us.”

“We sorta already are with the shit we’re letting slide,” Kirk muttered. I glanced at him and his eyes were down. He didn’t go on.

“Grace, you’re got leadership experience, you’ll have to go to King’s Landing,” said Taylor. “Golem, you’re…very good at remembering the normal, the innocents, and you’ll go with Grace to King’s Landing. Make sure that she doesn’t lose perspective. Wanton, you’ll stay here, make sure we don’t do the same.”

“What about me?” said Ava. “You’re having me stay here?”

“You go too,” said Everett. “Ava and Barden should join the team.”

Ava smiled, giving Everett a grateful expression.

“Wait,” said Kirk. “If Theo goes, building up this place gets harder. I can do it on my own, but that’s still a lot of time.”

“Theo and I could swap,” I said. “You don’t really need me from a building perspective.”

“Which changes the whole dynamic of the team,” said Taylor. “Cuff only wanted to go because Golem was going.”

Ava blushed. “I could still go,” she said. “If the manpower is needed.”

Taylor nodded. “It might be good too, because Gerard will be going and it’ll mean you’ll keep training your swordsmanship.”

Ava’s faced dropped and she quickly hid it. She hadn’t really wanted to go, but Taylor had missed that completely.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want,” said Everett.

_But she’ll feel like she has to,_ I thought. _It’s part of being a hero._

“No,” said Ava, taking a breath and stilling herself. “I should.”

“Then we should invite Lord Bracken over for lunch, talk things over with him. We’ll stay a few more days before going to Fairmarket,” she said to Olive.

“Yeah, okay,” said Olive.


	6. Chapter 6

**Weaver**

“This is it,” Olivia said, a sigh in her voice. “This is why I missed you.”

The two of us were in separate tubs filled with hot rose-water. It was just early enough in the morning that there was still a nip in the air, and the steam rose in wisps around us. The tubs were on the short side and so I sat with my feet peeking out. Olivia was shorter and she comfortably fit into hers. Only her head peaked out of the water.

“No hot water on the road?” I said.

“There was some in Seagard,” she said. “FYI, this place has _nothing_ on Seagard. The castle there is _really_ a castle, with tall walls and it’s on this rock that’s apart from the town, in the ocean, connected by bridges. And oh my _god_ it’s so beautiful, like you can _feel_ how old it is. Like being in Paris or something.”

“Probably younger than Paris,” I said. “Going by local time.”

“Probably right,” she said, her water bobbing as she shrugged. She sunk lower, letting her head submerge for a few seconds before coming out. “I didn’t like baths _before,”_ she said. “They’re disgusting when you think about it. You’re essentially just stewing in your own filth.”

“A lot of stuff is disgusting when you really thing about it,” I said. I laid back, my hair touching the floor. I moved ants into it, starting to pull away some of the dust that had accumulated. “Never really thought about how disgusting sharing a toilet with a lot of people was until we suddenly had a lot of people with us. After a few days of the outhouse being filthy, I had to keep a few bugs there that told people to clean up after themselves.”

“Did you scare them?” Olive said, the sound of water splashing around her tub.

I turned, looking at her with the corner of my eye and saw her leaning on the lip of the tub, a grin on them.

“I wasn’t trying to,” I said. “But they were afraid nonetheless.”

She sighed. “You have _no_ idea how many people I wanted to scare with my minions,” she said. “I kept telling Evey that one good scare and we could get a _lot_ more than we had the money to buy. I’m pretty sure some people bought the silk lower than they should have. But nope. Gotta be upstanding knights in shining armour.”

“We’re heroes,” I said.

“But _we_ were villains,” said Olive. “Took what we want _when_ we wanted it. Good old days.”

I gave her a look and she noticed.

“Okay, not the best,” she said. “Topsy could be an ass when he wanted to, but there was a lot of good there. You can’t say there wasn’t a lot of good when you were a villain.”

“I had friends,” I said, not meaning to. All at once thoughts came to the fore: What would the Undersiders be doing right now and how would they be reacting? I’d disappeared and even if the Protectorate wasn’t looking for me, Lisa would know there was a much simple solution to get me back. Would she be using her vast stores of cash to buy Faultline’s services? Was she using that to search for me and how would that even work?

How would Rachel and Brian be dealing with this? I’d left them, going to be a Ward, but that was different from me just disappearing. Were they doing okay mentally and emotionally? What about Aisha, she’d lost Alec and maybe I meant enough of something that losing me might mean something too.

What about Dad?

“Weaver?” said Olivia. I looked in her direction, brow quirked up. “You zoned out. Trouble?”

I focused on my power and found that I’d been pulling them close, that I’d tagged everyone and already silk lines were starting to bind around weapons and limbs, others connecting to furniture and waiting for me to give the command to splice everything together.

 _You miss them too, huh, passenger,_ I thought as I had the bugs start undoing the silk work. I focused on the conversations I listened in on, getting a better sense of Brynden and the person he was.

“No trouble,” I said.

Olivia calmed down, settling into her bath. “What’s the game plan? We’re not going home.”

_How long have you waited to ask me that?_

The trip to Fairmarket usually took about two weeks, round trip, on the donkeys, but with Olivia it had taken almost two days with light sleep. Above that, we’d been here a full day and this was the first time she’d seen fit to ask.

How long had she been stewing and what answer did she expect?

“The only thing we _can_ do is make this place home,” I said.

Olivia sighed. “This place is shit,” she said. “No internet, no TV, all of my music. Gone. I knew they should have let me carry it with me, but a fuckin’ _master_ and they say I have to focus.”

“You do, though,” I said.

She scowled. “Just give this to me,” she muttered.

“I give it,” I said, putting on a British accent.

She smiled. _“Jokes,”_ she said. “Hell must be frozen.”

“I’m trying to make this place less shitty,” I said. “I’ve got some plans, directions, that sort of thing, and this is a start. By the time you and the others get back from King’s Landing you won’t be able to recognise Oldstones.”

She snorted. “I can see that,” said Olivia. “One second we’ve got these short walls, next thing I know there are two storey high hands so thick people could live inside of them.”

“I’m thinking that when we have the money to hire guards, people will be able to live in them,” I said. “Kirk and Theo don’t like it ‘cause there’ll have to be windows at the top so that people can shoot arrows through.”

“Theo and Kirk are too artsy fartsy,” she said.

“Artsy fartsy gave you the buildings in Paris,” I said.

“Screw you for being right,” she muttered. “Build me a giant statue,” she said. “Like the one in Bravo.”

“Braavos.”

“Yeah. Whatever,” she said. “It’d be cool to bring it to life for real instead of what the Bravosians—”

“Braavosi.”

“—tell themselves with their statue.”

I nodded. “I’ll think about getting it done,” I said. “Now let’s get ready to schmooze.”

Unlike when the others travelled with a lot of people, Olivia and I had been just a pair. It was confusing how much Olivia had been up for it, but maybe a part of her had wanted to finally see Fairmarket. I’d set things up so that the servant reached our door when we were fully dressed, leading us to the dining room so Brynden could show us off.

The talk was light all through breakfast, with Brynden telling me about how his family had risen to wealth and how his holdings had increased because of good advice from Petyr Baelish, now the Master of Coin.

“I’m sure, my lady,” said Lord Brynden. “That a word from me and Lord Baelish might offer you quite the sum from the King’s coffers, all at a reasonable interest.”

“All things to look forward to, my lord,” I said. I didn’t want loans, not so early in the game. It would tie us down too much, especially when we didn’t really need starting capital. But it was worth _looking_ like we might take them because it gave us an amount of favour, even if I couldn’t quantify how much.

After breakfast, I offered to cart Brynden around on Olivia’s minions and he excitedly acquiesced. It was on that trip, walking through the narrow streets of Fairmarket, headed for one of the farms Brynden owned and was due to be audited in preparation of winter, that we spoke.

“And that is why I think it is most important that this venture be started sooner rather than later,” Brynden said. “Winter approaches and when it comes, you might be hard pressed to find anyone willing to sell from their granaries.”

“What’s the big deal about winter?” Olivia asked.

“Cold affects plant growth, my lady,” said Brynden. “Reduces the type of plants that can be harvested. Many a lord will want to hoard the supplies that they have and those that want to sell will do so at exorbitant prices. A long summer is followed by an even longer winter.”

Olivia scrunched her nose. “That doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “Winter’s three months. _All_ the seasons are three months. Why are you saying that like it’s gonna be _so_ long or something?”

Brynden stopped, gaping for a moment before he shook his head. “This summer has lasted at least ten years, my lady.”

_What?_

“What?” my mouth said.

“This is odd,” he said, “certainly, which is why many might feel they want to hoard their stores when winter finally comes.”

I let out a breath, feeling a little light headed because I couldn’t even _consider_ how that would work. A summer that lasted ten years and winter that would perhaps last longer? How the fuck was there still life? How did trees survive and how were _we_ supposed to survive that?

We didn’t have central heating and we had food shortages every once in a while, because we didn’t really have the money to import food en masse. Not to mention that we kept getting fucking visitors we had to entertain, who ate up our food and hunted down our animals making it harder for us.

We had livestock but not enough that would survive through winter. We’d already had three chickens that had died of sickness and more chicks that hadn’t made it out of a young age. A goat was sick and was being tended to and it would be a _long_ time before our cow became more cows and we could get milk from it.

At this point, everything seemed like a time investment and there wasn’t the luxury to think we’d be repaid in the future. Not if a fucking long winter came.

 _This could be false,_ a part of me thought. _Remember that we don’t trust this guy. He’s shady. And no one mentioned this before._

But that was because no one had any reason to mention it. Just as we knew seasons were neatly divided into four roughly equal parts, they knew that they were variable things where summers could last _ten_ years.

This would mean having to rework plans.

“Lord Brynden,” I said and my voice shook. Odd when I didn’t feel particularly perturbed. Even so, I took a breath, focusing on my bugs and the lay of the land. “It seems that there are differences between how this world works and mine. Usually, our summers are only three months.”

“That seems too small a time to get any crops of worth,” he said.

“We do,” I said. “Our farmers know how to till the soil to get good crops. A farmer I am not and now I find myself worried about the future.”

“This is why a relationship between us is so important,” Lord Brynden said with a smile he might have thought was genial. “As I told Lady Grace, I have contacts spread throughout Westeros and some across the Narrow Sea. Only a word from me and we would have people here willing to buy your silks.”

“Then please,” I said, “send word.”

“Of course, my lady,” he said with a little titter. “Of course. But first, there is the matter of commission—”

“Commission when it hasn’t even been said _what_ you’ll be doing,” I interrupted. “You say you have contacts, my lord, but even those would be paltry when compared to the Master of Coin. My companions are already preparing for a trip to King’s Landing, with a personal invitation from King Robert himself. It wouldn’t be too much to request aid from Lord Baelish in our endeavour.”

I caught sight of Olivia with a massive grin on her as she looked at Brynden’s too wide eyes. I wasn’t really earning an ally playing things this way, but I didn’t have time for this shit. I needed to get things done and the sooner this was over with, the better.

⸸

“…travel will be most essential and perhaps the hardest part of it all,” said Brynden as we sat in his solar at sunset, cheese and wine spread out in front of us. The air was hot and dry, forcing me to wear light clothing as we looked down on Fairmarket.

“Fairmarket isn’t as it was before the Targaryens came, when it was the stopping point for many a traveller. For this venture to work, people will have to _want_ to come here.”

“A hard prospect, I gather,” I said.

“Quite,” he said after a sip of wine. “How we’re placed on the map plays a large role in it. Oldstones is close to the coast but it’s on the wrong side of industry. Most people will have to travel uphill from Harroway’s or Saltpans to get here, stopping them of the reprieve of coming here by boat.”

“We’ll have to do something about roads,” I said, which on its _own_ would take a lot to do, even with Everett doing a lot of the grunt work. I had the fleeting thought of a railway system connecting us to the most important locations, but that would be _more_ time and I didn’t have any ideas how trains worked beyond them using steam.

“At least stretching between Oldstones and Fairmarket for a start,” he said. “Merchants will eventually come and they will come on wagons. If the trip seems perilous, they very well might not take it.”

“It’ll make the delivery of food much easier too,” I said under my breath. I glanced at Brynden and he smiled.

“Yes, my lady,” he said. Importing food was the first thing we’d discussed. Instead of a commission basis, we’d settled on a fifteen percent stake on the silk trade and five on the honey. With a vested effort in my success, there was more of a chance that he’d actually _work_ to get this off the ground and it seemed that he was. No sooner had we finished talking the day before, that he’d sent out over a dozen ravens some to Saltpans and others to King’s Landing.

I’d killed a raven to read the letter: it had been a redundancy, telling one of his friends in Gulltown that it would be good to invest in trading ships. Insider trading in an unregulated economy. I’d have to speak with the others, maybe Theo, to get his input on this from a business perspective. It would have been good to have him here, but Ava would be leaving soon and the two needed to have some time together.

Because he wanted Oldstones to survive, he’d agreed to regularly send supplies with armed men up the hill to Oldstones, all for free, but that would have to wait until we figured out how fast we ran our stocks dry. The food came at a price and it was one that would force me to increase my silk production. I’d already been pushing my spider’s egg laying and with the schedule I’d set up, little spiders would hatch every few days. Hopefully Oldstones wouldn’t be overrun by the time I got back.

“I’d also suggest making friends with as many of the other lords in the Riverlands,” he said. “You’ve spoken to Lords Bracken and Blackwood, but the wealth they hold is relatively paltry. If I were to suggest anything, my lady, I would say make a trip to Riverrun. It’s good that you’re going to King’s Landing to have word with the king, but he isn’t as important to this venture as the lords of the Riverlands are.”

“Leaving would mean all forward progress is stalled,” I said. “Bugs are finicky. Abrupt changes in temperature and long travels don’t do them good.”

Not to mention _birds_. Those fuckers loved to swoop down and eat my bugs. The only reason I didn’t kill them all was because I was afraid of the ecological damage.

“The trip here has meant I lost a few hundred bugs in my swarm and that’s nothing to the spider I’ve left behind that’ll have died.”

“Be that as it may, my lady,” he said. “It’s helpful to have the ear of the Protector of the Riverlands.”

I sighed. “I’ll think on it,” I said. “As for now, speak to your people and start setting things up. I’ll use the months of travel to build up my silk and honey supplies. I’ll speak to Tecton to get started on a road connecting you to us.”

Brynden said something but I didn’t notice. Since I’d arrived, I’d been helping clear out the rat population in Brynden’s holdfast. It was busy work, more meditative than anything. Suddenly it wasn’t. There was a rat and it moved with too much intelligence, with too much purpose. It spotted my swarm and moved away, after getting caught in silk and chewing free, it was on the lookout and it dodged some of my traps.

I pulled back and kept track of it while harrying it with small clusters of bugs. It dodged them all, scurrying through the walls, keeping away from people and moving in their blind spots. Every time I looked at things with a wider lens, I noticed that it came was coming towards us.

I devoted more effort, bugs with silk that wound around it, hoisting it into the air. It tried to wriggle out, chewing at the silk but my bugs quickly overwhelmed it, moving it through the air towards me.

Maybe I was wrong, but it wasn’t a chance worth taking.

Brynden stopped talking as he spotted a cloud of bugs carrying a rat. He stood scrambling back, his eyes wide with fear. I cut the threads and the rat fell with a heavy thud. It got on its feet and looked up at me.

“Hello, little rat,” I said. “Is there a person behind you?”

The rat stood on its forelimbs and nodded.

I stood.

“Lead me to you.”

The rat scurried and I followed.

“What’s up?” said Olivia when I was out in the yard. She’d been doing her late morning workouts, ignoring some of the gazes she’d garnered.

“Following a potential trigger,” I said. The rat still moved in front of me, more vigour in it.

“Something to do,” Olivia said with a shrug. We walked over to her cows. I got on the back while she sat on the grass-pillow padded seat. I’d been learning to ride a horse, but I hadn’t ridden it so long that I was used to it yet. After two days of being astride the cows, I didn’t want to for a while.

We took off, the rat moving much faster now. It took us a good ways away from the holdfast, still in the cramped buildings further from the river, but in a part of Fairmarket where the roads were muddy and livestock tromped around, shitting everywhere.

I found her in the husk of a building. She was maybe in her twenties but so thin and frail that she looked older; her skin was pale and blotchy, her hair was thin and stringy, some of her teeth were missing or rotten and there was an ugly bruise over one eye.

She bowed low when she saw us, her face touching the ground.

“My goddess,” she said, her voice thin and reedy, breaking in parts. _“Please._ I’ve…I don’t want it no more. I don’t want to be hunted no more. Please.”

 _“Fuck,”_ Olivia muttered.

“Yeah,” I muttered back, because for all that was visible, there was just so much more. The woman _stunk_ and had sores on her feet; I could feel fleas passing over and at some point, she must have slept close to an animal pen because she had ticks on her, so big they were ready to burst.

I hopped down, walking over to her and helping her up. She flinched at my touch.

“Come with us,” I said. “You’ll never be hurt again.”

⸸

“I know you have wondrous abilities my lady,” said Brynden. “But this woman is not your kin. She’s a skin changer. Her ancestors lay with the Children of the Forrest much as the Frog Men did.”

I shook my head.

Olivia was with Leana, watching her as she was being looked over by the nuns from the faith of the Seven. I’d removed many of the bugs and kept a few close to spy. It was strange, the arbitrary distinctions people seemed to draw and keep holding on to even if they didn’t make sense. They didn’t have the same sort of fear or reverence for Leana as they had for Olivia and me, instead there were muttered chastisement of us bringing this filth with us.

The story Leana told was harrowing. She’d discovered the ability to push her consciousness into the family cat while asleep. Overtime she’d learnt how to do it even awake and that’s when people had found out. She’d been twelve the first time she’d been caught. She and her family had run in the night, evading the hunts for a few years before she’d been caught.

From sixteen she’d lived in dungeons more than homes; sometimes escaping, moving onto another village, trying to find a normal life before she slipped and used her power again. Each time she’d been caught again, sometimes she’d escape by her own power and other times she was stolen by a guard, and each time left its mark until she was a pariah not by ability, but because of how she looked.

“Don’t talk,” I said and Brynden screamed, stumbling back.  His guards moved, trying to pull swords from scabbards and holsters only to find them stuck. “Don’t justify. Just stay quiet. All of you.”

He didn’t say anything, only gestured for his men to stand down. I paced, trying to calm myself, trying to make the images of what had happened to Leana disappear.

Medieval times were fucked up. I _knew_ this, but that was different from accepting it. Every time shit like this happened it was a knock against my image of how the world worked. I’d seen a lot of fucked up shit in post-Leviathan Brockton Bay, but there’d still been a civility there. People had been desperate, but in my territory, I’d cultivated a philosophy of helping each other. People like the Merchants had been outliers.

It was heart wrenching when the entirety of civilisation was this fucked up. There was no respite or reprieve. We had to _push_ to stop people from being shitty.

Maybe I wasn’t being fair. Times were tougher, there wasn’t any of the cushiness that meant high ideals.

But _fuck._

I focused as I felt people moving more erratically. There were screams and running, people pulled near while other fell to the ground. All finding reason to look up. It took a few seconds before I noticed that the sky outside had darkened, filled with a swarm of bugs.

“Goddess Weaver,” said Brynden, his voice shaky. The man could see outside, see the bugs that were moving as a large cloud hanging above his holdfast.

I took a breath and pushed the swarm apart, spreading out over everyone and tagging them. Clustering them out of sight so I could hear what they were saying.

“When Leana has been seen to, Romp and I will leave,” I said. “You’ll start things on your end while I work on the silks.”

“Of course, Goddess Weaver,” he said, his voice still tight. “I’ll go and tell my servants to fill your stocks.”

“Thank you,” I said. He ran off, his guards quickly following after him. I continued to pace, trying to push the sinking thoughts to the back of my mind. By day’s end, Romp and I left with Leana and our supplies.

⸸

We still didn’t have doors to our castle, but we sure as hell had a tall wall. In the days since we’d left, Theo and Kirk had been hard at work completing the front most wall. There were still places that weren’t done, where I could see Theo’s hands rising up from ground like trees, crashing into each other and coming together in a chipped and cracked mess. Apparently that made it easier for Kirk to connect two sections of stone together.

Even after leaving Fairmarket, after having a few days with Leana and trying to tell her that it was fine to use her ability now, I was still pissed because she was _scared._

“Apologies, goddess,” she would say with her head bowed when it didn’t work, and when she slept and accidentally drifted into the rat she’d left in Fairmarket, she’d startle awake.

“A person like us did that,” Olivia said. She was sitting close to Leana, speaking with an uncharacteristically gentle voice. “Two of them, Kirk and Theo.”

“It’s wondrous, goddess,” said Leana, her voice soft and her head bowed. She didn’t add anymore, only kept looking around.

I took a breath and focused on my bugs. Lord Bracken and his people had left, but the census I took said there were more people here than we’d left behind, some with swords strapped to their sides. No doubt it was people Lord Bracken had left to make sure we went to King’s Landing.

Preparations had already been done for the trip to King’s Landing. A few of my bugs could sense the newly made cows. These were bigger and tougher, made with thicker metal, the cages at the back were filled with slots and grates so that stuff could be put into compartments then tied in place. One of the stories Everett and the others had shared, had been of falling very early into the trip to Seagard, and one of their water kegs shattering. That wouldn’t happen again.

Work had been put into extending the confines of our bunker. Before, we’d only been using about half of the floor space, with the other half closed off with by rubble. While we’d been gone, Everett must have shattered the rubble and between Alex and Barden, they’d cleared out some of the rock so they could extend things below. They were about half way done with clearing the dirt and I could sense the gentle touch as Alex worked to pull up chunks of rock from the hole and carrying it away.

Olivia lead us to the only bridge leading into Oldstones and past a giant archway made of two connected hands. Within, people were hard at work. There was a clamour in the training yard, while others worked the ground of our garden. We were still small enough that we didn’t need a large patch of land to feed all of us, but it wouldn’t offer much variety.

People stopped as we got in, some of the kids screaming as they ran forward. Olivia stopped one of the rider less cows and they climbed on, squealing when it took off, not moving too quickly because it would throw off our supplies.

Katherine was the one who found us. She stopped jogging, looked at Leana then looked at me.

“How bad?” she said.

“Just general fuckery,” I said and my voice was tighter than I’d meant it to. When I focused on myself, I was breathing a little harder, my fists clenched into fists. “We’ve got new information, about powers.”

“Yeah?” she said.

I nodded. “It seems that they’re older here,” I said. “But I can’t pull that apart from myth and superstition. Leana is called a skin changer, and people have been around long enough that they were hunted to near extinction.”

 _“Fuck,”_ said Katherine. Her eyes moved from me to Leana, a short flick, but that meant nothing to Katherine. She could control how fast she processed information, which meant a small glance could be taking in a wealth of information.

“Fuck,” I agreed.

“You’re safe here,” said Katherine. “No one’s going to hurt you for your powers.”

Leana bowed, her head kept low. “Thank you, my goddess,” she muttered.

We got in and Katherine called some people to haul the food to the storage room. Theo was there and he used some of the paper he’d had me buy to start a ledger of our supplies. We’d run out of food too many times and he’d come up with the idea to start tracking input and output, checking supplies so that we’d head out to Fairmarket before we had to start rationing food.

Leana shrunk as she was surrounded by people, moving so she was always close to either me or Olivia. We ate and had baths. An older woman by the name of Giyana checked over some of the sores that Leana had to make sure they hadn’t been infected. Giyana was stoic as she worked, but I heard her shock as she went outside and was told by one of the others that Leana was a skin changer.

Thankfully there was no hate, because I didn’t think I could take that from the people living under _our_ roof, but there wasn’t any sympathy for what she would have gone through.

“We can’t do anything about it,” said Everett when we met at the round-table. Leana and Olivia weren’t with us. Leana because she hadn’t earned her seat at the table and Olivia because she’d agreed to go sit with Leana.

He was looking at me as he said it.

I swallowed, closing my hands into fists. I knew it was coming, but it still surprised me when Katherine put her hand over mine.

“I know,” said Everett. “I know, I _know—”_

“It’s not the only shit storm in this place,” said Kirk, his voice even and his expression dark. “Do you guys know that slavery’s still a thing over the sea?”

“This isn’t our world,” said Everett.

“And that magically makes it right?” said Kirk. “It makes it something that we just have to ignore?”

“It’s not like we can _do_ anything, though,” said Everett, a little desperation in his voice. “What? Should we go over there and stop it? _How?_ Really, _how?”_

Kirk put one hand palm forward onto the table, making it sink into the table.

“You’re gods,” said Barden.

“We’re _kids,”_ said Everett. “We’re in a situation we don’t understand. We’re used to shit, _sure,_ but not this shit. We’re not used to having this much responsibility. This much pressure. As it, we’re barely keeping above water. I’m _trying,_ stripping components from Taylor’s pack and my suit, but even then I have the barest ideas how to move forward—”

“Ev, ease up,” said Alex and I was surprised by how fine he sounded. He looked around. “Shit is happening, but we shouldn’t lose perspective. We have our world to get back to, the _end_ to think about—”

“So these people aren’t important?” said Kirk.

“That’s not what he’s saying,” said Theo. “But—”

“Oh, fuck you,” said Kirk. “The only thing you care about is _you._ You act all sanctimonious, but—”

“Quiet,” I said, the sound of bugs hissing joining me. Everyone sat up, their eyes immediately on me. There were a lot of powers here, some easier to leverage than mine. This wasn’t a threat in a traditional sense, just trying for surprise.

_Everything’s falling apart. There are cracks and every time we face a challenge, those cracks become bigger. I can’t be a part of that. I have to be above it, be the voice of reason._

I’d done this before, chosen what was best for the greater good instead of what was good for me. I’d given up my friends, my territory and a degree of power to help the world. Here and now, I could give up my indignation to make sure we came out of this still friends.

“Five minutes of silence,” I said, “so we get our feelings under control.”

Kirk let himself fall into the table, disappearing within. After a sigh, Alex disappeared and I felt small touches on my bugs and some of the spider-webs that’d been laid out by spiders while I was gone. Everett tapped his hands on the table, sketching with his finger; Ava and Theo had their hands together; and Katherine and Barden did the same.

I focused on my bugs, feeling from their inputs and restarting the honey factory. Before I’d left, we’d shifted hives around, spacing things out so there wouldn’t be warfare and so they weren’t too close to the castle. Even so I’d lost a lot of bees. The ants were thriving though, with a large network of tunnels running under the forest and even one colony that had found its home in a rotting tree.

Everett sighed and that was the first domino. Alex got back into his human form and sat, and after I tapped on the table in Morse code, Kirk pulled out, sitting with his arms crossed and his head held down.

“I’m building a scanner,” said Everett. He swallowed, ran a hand over his face, then through his hair. “It’s a little hard because my power is having to cobble. A lot of the stuff that made tinkering easy is gone. Circuits are harder and I have to reuse a lot of them, to make things worse my mind feels dull. But I _do_ have a direction. I’m building a scanner and I think that I might have an idea of what to do.”

“If Olivia were here, she’s say it sounds like you’re telling us what we want to hear,” I said.

Everett shook his head. “Breakers are strange, because what happens to their bodies?” he said. “With what Tattletale said about powers working off other dimensions, the thing that makes sense is that the bodies are being stored elsewhere. If I can scan that, get a sense of the function, then maybe I can send stuff away or pull it back.”

“You’re a seismic tinker,” said Kirk.

“So maybe I can send vibrations through and send them back,” said Everett. “People _are_ looking for us. Maybe the rest of us aren’t important but Theo and Taylor are, so the Protectorate _has_ to find us. Maybe that’s hard with how much multiverse is out there, so I’m going to try and send them a message, Morse code through dimensions.”

“That sounds like there are a lot of problems,” said Katherine.

“And it doesn’t help us deal with _this,”_ said Kirk. “All of the shit that we’re letting slide when we could be doing things better.”

“We don’t have the resources,” I said to Kirk. His mouth became a line. “I want to help people too,” I said, “but we have to be smart about things. If we’re doing anything then we’ll have to be sure we can succeed.”

“And if we can’t ever succeed?” said Kirk. “What then? Do we just sit on our hands waiting for the perfect moment?”

“What do you want us to do, Kirk?” said Ava, her voice shaking. “I’m sorry, but it feels like you’re calling _us_ out for not doing something, but what can we do?”

“We have fucking _superpowers,”_ he said. “If we all went over the ocean. If we tried to fix this shit—”

“We’d be stuck fixing this shit instead of being able to go home,” I said.

“Or maybe we aren’t supposed to go home,” said Kirk. “Maybe god put us here for a reason, right?” He was looking at Ava as he said that. I felt Theo go rigid. “To fix this instead of looking out for ourselves.”

Ava looked at Theo whose eyes were open wide. Ava stood and ran out.

“Ava _wait,”_ said Theo getting up and following after her.

“I think this is over,” I said. Kirk left with his shoulders down and drooped into the table, moving into the floor and up along the wall.

Barden stood and I shook my head. He sat, a brow raised in confusion.

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” said Katherine. “It feels like that sort of day.”

“Tell us about winter,” I said.

“My lady?” said Barden.

“What’s this about?” said Alex.

“The last winter you experience, when was it?” I asked.

“I was born in winter, my lady,” he said, still confused. “Though I don’t remember much of it. Mother and Father call me a summer child because I haven’t really _seen_ winter. My early memories are of spring.”

“That…doesn’t make any sense,” said Alex. “You’re what, fifteen, sixteen?”

Barden shrugged.

“Right,” said Alex. “But…”

“It’s been summer for over ten years,” I told them, “and Brynden thinks the winter might be longer.”

“Longer than ten years?” said Katherine. “That doesn’t make any fucking sense. How does anything survive?”

“So more pressure to get us home,” Everett muttered.

“Or better preparations,” I said. “I have to be blunt. There’s a chance we don’t succeed so we have to prepare for a life here. We can’t put all our eggs in one basket, putting all resources in trying to get you to get us home. We have to also think about surviving this life.”

“You sounded like this when you were pushing,” said Katherine. “When you wanted us to train for the end of the world. It feels a lot like you’re telling Ev to put getting us home in the background while we build a life here.”

Was that what I was saying?

When I thought about it, it seemed smarter. What Everett was saying felt like a pipe dream, especially when we considered that there was a power out there that could easily find us and send us home. It was right of me to think that he _shouldn’t_ be trying that and instead we should be working to make _this_ life more comfortable.

But there were already cracks in the ground and if I said that, they’d widen even more.

“What did you want me to do?” said Everett, his voice hollow.

“Start work on a road connecting us to Fairmarket,” I said. “It’s a long-term plan when I’m not comfortable thinking about such investments, but easy travel between here and there, means our food supplies get easier. And it’ll help start our Silk Road. Brynden’s already sent out word and we should expect people with deals soon. I’ll be building up our silk supplies.

“Katherine, you’re going to be taking a longer route to King’s Landing. We have about a month and a half for you to get there. With some light sleep and quick stops, I think you’ll make it to the tourney. I want you to go and visit Blackwood and maybe catch Bracken back to his castle. You’ll talk to them about their stores, tell them we didn’t know about winter and we want ideas how to build our granaries and any other ideas that have helped them survive their own winters.”

Katherine nodded, her expression serious.

“If they can, we’d like books and designs sent our way to make it easier to build these granaries and ask Maester Wynne about those maesters he said would be sent to us. The faster they get here, the better. I think we should focus less on defence and more on making a place to live. The walls are a comfort at this point, something to signal that we’re protected. With either me or Everett in the castle we can protect it against armies. So let’s focus on the rebuilding the castle.”

Everett looked at me, expectant and when I didn’t say anything he let out a sigh.

“I think you missed the most important part,” he said. “People are hurt and frustrated right now. Pretending that doesn’t exist doesn’t help us.”

“I’m not pretending,” I said. “But I know that no one is looking to me to offer a gentle hand. I’m the dad and you’re the mom.”

“Fuck,” said Everett. He took in a deep breath, all while nodding. “Yeah. I can do this. Can you call Kirk in here?”

“I will find him,” said Barden, getting to his feet.

“I’ll tell Olivia what’s been going on,” I said. “Check up on Leana.”

“Use your powers around her,” said Alex as I started to leave. I gave him a look. “It helps when you see other people just _be,_ it might help her see that it’s safe to use her power.”

I nodded, going to Olivia’s room.

There was still resentment the next day. Theo and Ava were still together but there was more space between them; Theo and Kirk weren’t talking, both doing their duties far from the other; and Alex spent most of his time with Everett holed up in his workshop. Everett managed to get a few talks in, and I had to stop myself from listening in, even if it would be better to get a sense of where everyone was mentally.

The following day, preparations were done and four sturdy cows, four smaller cows and three humanoid figures waited outside the gates to leave for King’s Landing.

“Hate that we’re leaving like this,” said Katherine. “People not liking each other.”

“Maybe space will help,” I said with a shrug.

“At least a month,” said Katherine. “Gerrard says it should be fast since most of the way is downhill and well-travelled, but…” She shrugged.

“I get it,” I said.

Katherine took a breath and let it out, her expression scrunching.

“You’ll do fine,” I said.

She shook her head. “It’s not that. Just… _pressure._ I think I get what Everett is feeling.”

We turned his way and he had bags under his eyes. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, if he’d gotten any at all. He was talking to Alex, sharing soft words.

“Look out for him,” said Katherine. “Force him to sleep if he pushes it. Alex and I won’t be here.”

I nodded.

Katherine nodded, then walked over to her and Barden’s cow, hopping on at the front. I walked over to Olivia’s cow stationed at the front. Kirk noticed me, said something I couldn’t quite work out then left, keeping his distance from Theo and Ava.

“Here to wish me good travels?” said Olivia, a grin on her.

“No,” I said. Her grin disappeared. “We were villains,” I said, keeping my voice low, checking if the others could hear me. “If something happens…”

“Destroy them.” she said.

I nodded. “I’m trusting you to exercise your best judgement,” I said.

Olivia sat straighter, her expression grim.

“Yeah,” she said. “You can trust me.”

“Good travels,” I said and turned away.

The good-byes done, the party took off at a run and the rest of us got back to work.

⸸

“Alex is gone which makes this a little more complicated,” said Everett, three days after the others had left.

Over a thousand baby spiders had been born and there were clusters of fleas drifting towards them for an early morning meal. Fleas were good when I wanted to tag people with them, pretty much everyone had a few dormant fleas to help me keep track, but they could be annoying when I sort of eased the reigns and they found themselves on people.

“Hopefully I’ve thought this through right and the whole building won’t fall over,” he said.

“Please say that’s a joke,” said Kirk. “Because Theo and me spent _too_ long working on the sub-basement and the basement to do all that work again.”

I glanced in his direction. He and Theo still didn’t talk as much as they had before the fight, but this was the first time I’d heard one talking about the other. Leana stood close to me, still slouched and still looking over her shoulder, still as quiet as a mouse and still not using her ability.

“Half joking,” said Everett. He held the hilt of his sword for a few seconds and I felt a rumble deep within the ground. “I’ve sectioned things off. Broken up the earth into layers. Theo should be able to feel the large slab separated from smaller rubble.”

Theo bent and touched the ground. “I feel it,” he said.

“All you have to do is make a giant hand, pushing up the rubble. The stone your power makes isn’t as strong as normal stone, it takes wear and tear too easily, but I’ve looked over the data after Kirk’s worked on it and him fortifying it generally adds to the structural integrity.”

“I still don’t have a clear image what you want to do,” I said.

“I want the rubble out because it messes things up. I’ve broken it into too many pieces so there’ll always be an element of instability. It’s just better to make another hand tower and just use that as a base for a new building.”

“What about scraping?” said Kirk. “Against the walls as the hand comes up. Shouldn’t I thicken things up?”

“My reading was that things were fine,” said Everett. “But since this is so delicate—”

“Our food’s in there, so delicate’s an understatement,” said Theo.

“—maybe you should thicken up the wall before I do this.”

“Maybe add some space between the wall and rubble,” said Kirk.

I shook my head, tuning the conversation out. “This isn’t as interesting as I thought,” I said. I went to the training yard and watched as the Braavosi taught some of boys to water dance, while Duran Hutter, Lord Hutter’s son, taught the rest how to fight with swords.

I got a few bugs to bring me my baton and took up Lazelos Phassios to spar. He had his sword and I had my baton and a few bugs. He was fast but I knew when he was coming, where he was going and I cheated with a bit of silk that caught his wooden sword when he got too close to hitting me.

“Ah, but you have the god’s sight, Weaving Goddess,” he said, “and you are near to being as graceful as the Graceful Goddess.”

“Close?” I said, weaving under a striking and coming up to bat aside his sword with my baton. I came forward to strike him in the chest. He saw it coming and moved back, letting himself fall to take away from the kick. He came up and I’d already stepped back, away from the reach of his sword.

“This is so, Weaving Goddess,” he said. “Because if this was a sparring against the Graceful Goddess, Lazelos Phassios would have long lost.”

I managed to get a line around a finger jutting up from the fence surrounding the training yard. It was short, unconnected and I waited for when Lazelos Phassios started to strike before connecting it. He thrust his hand forward and the line went taut, pulling the sword from his grasp.

“Ha-ha!” said Malario Sanerah. “Only the worst of bravos would be losing their hand.”

“Lazelos Phassios faced a goddess,” he said. “Would Malario Sanerah say he has done the same?”

“Only by the grace of the Weaving Goddess can Malario Sanerah be saying those words,” he said and he looked at me expectantly.

“Sure,” I said with a shrug. I was a little tired and he’d seen my tricks, added to that he was faster than Lazelos Phassios. He moved with more vigour and more _steps._

The motions of a dancer.

He tested first, tight movements with a strong grip, always feeling the attacks out so they wouldn’t be pulled back like Lazelos Phassios had been. When I moved to attack, he danced back, keeping his sword raised to stop me from getting too close and clocking him.

Each dodge was a dance, too many steps, all of them exaggerated.

Ultimately that was his downfall. I tied together a line when his legs were too close and when he stretched them out, the silk caught and he fell face first into the ground.

Leana let out a short laugh before quickly stamping down and for much of the day I felt lighter.

With Olivia gone, our easy access to electricity was also gone and the dwindling supply of energy for Everett’s battery pack was something worrying. So he and a few other men had started to build a water wheel down by the river, while Theo built hands that would stretch out as power lines up to the castle and I focused a bit of my attention on insulating more wire.

“I’d have liked it if it was all closer,” said Everett. “Means we don’t have to worry about someone destroying it.”

“Could always build a big house around it,” Theo said.

“Which is just _more_ work,” Kirk muttered. “Especially when I’ve still got a house to build.”

“You can take a few days off if you feel worn,” said Everett. “You’re the one doing most of the intensive work.”

 _There’s winter to think about,_ I thought, but I didn’t say out loud. The others still didn’t know about the coming winter or how screwy it was and I didn’t think things were mended enough that they’d be able to handle that type of pressure.

Kirk shook his head. “The sooner everything’s finished the better I’ll feel,” he said, hands in his pockets and his gaze down.

“Anything you want to tell us?” said Everett with a frown.

Kirk’s eyes were wide as he looked up. He looked like he wanted to say something for a second before eventually he shook his head.

“I’ll get back to the castle,” he said. “Work on finishing the wall. Call me if you need me.”

“You okay to go back alone?” said Everett.

Kirk nodded. “Yeah. Need the me time, anyway,” he said, but as he trekked up to the castle, Lazelos Phassios and Malario Sanerah were with him.

Everett sighed, his shoulders slumped as he walked back to the wheel.

Two days later men arrived. There were over five of them, all with horses and swords, and one of them with decent looking, if unadorned, armour.

As one they knelt before us.

“We’ve come to pledge ourselves to the living gods,” the leader said, a short man with a mean face and scars running up his neck.

“Hedge knights, my lady,” said Duran. “Though some look to be bandits from their scars.”

“Scars are the mark of a great warrior,” said Forrest, one of the men we’d picked up in Fairmarket. He had a bow in his hand and a long knife at his hip.

“Scars only show that a man has fought,” Duran said and when I glanced at him, he was working to keep his expression calm. He still hadn’t gotten used to Forrest and the other young men from Fairmarket being so familiar, but after Theo had asked him to cut it out in irritation, he’d stopped demanding respect.

“We need the manpower for the wheel,” I said, looking at Everett. He nodded. I continued, with bugs joining my voice for volume. “We accept your pledge. Do away with your weapons, share in our bread and when it’s done we’ll get to work.”

Some of them were good at carving wood, and others had to do the grunt work of felling the right type of trees, but they worked, only complaining when we were out of earshot.

“Have care the words you speak,” one of our people whispered when one man was threatening to start slacking off. “Goddess Weaver has godly knowledge. She knows all that happens even when she isn’t present.”

It was worrying that they’d started to figure it out, meant I’d slipped up often enough that they’d noticed. But a part of me was thankful that this was the first time I’d really heard anyone say it out loud. It meant Lord Bracken hadn’t found out and I hadn’t lost the ability to spy on future conversations.

That night I was awoken by something tripping one of my web lines, a small squirrel moving towards the castle. My eyes found Leana’s form, wrapped up in a blanket, sleeping soundly. She’d said her power worked on its own at night and most nights she usually started awake, but now she was still sound asleep.

I checked on our knights and all of them were asleep. I calmed down, waiting until the squirrel got into the castle, scampered down the stairs and got lost in the floor above. I got a swarm together in front of the squirrel, drawing an arrow.

Leana started awake and she looked around, her eyes finally stopping on me. I felt as the squirrel suddenly bolted, running away from the bugs.

“Have a good dream?” I asked.

“I…I was a squirrel, goddess,” she said.

“Yeah? Tell me about it.”

I noticed her form shrink, head bowed.

“Want you tell you how it feels when I use my power?” I asked.

Her head bobbed up and down.

“It’s…like there are a lot of numbers in my head,” I said, “and each number holds more numbers, if that makes sense.”

She didn’t say anything.

“I can feel through my bugs,” I said and Leana reacted, sitting up a little, as if she wanted to say something before she drew inward again. “Not the same as person feeling but something else. Some have hairs that they feel the wind from and I sort of feel that but it’s jumbled. Too much all at once. When they see, it’s with too many eyes and things are off…”

I went on, trying to describe the indescribable until Leana went back to sleep. I paid attention to the squirrel, waiting for her to go into it but she didn’t.

Theo built his tower, making it thick and squat, shorter than the grand towers castles usually had in movies. But then, we couldn’t just make giant towers when Kirk would be the one who’d have to manipulate the insides to make them liveable.

Everett and his people finished the water wheel, but the river moved too slow and Tecton started getting ideas about reworking the terrain so water flowed faster.

“Won’t that just ruin the life in the river?” Theo asked. “I’m not a fish scientist.”

“Marine biologist,” said Kirk.

“Is it even a marine biologist when it’s in a river?”

“Marine means water, right?” said Kirk. His eyes moved over to Everett and then me. Both of us shrugged. We were at lunch, with people eating around us, and as was usual when got to into speaking like we were on Earth Bet, everyone else was quiet and just listening to us speak.

“Aqua is water, though,” I said. “Maybe aqua biologist?”

“We’re getting too caught up,” said Everett. “It can’t be too much of a change, right? Shifts in water flow happen all the time in nature and fish still survive.”

“We shouldn’t forget about what happens downstream,” said Theo. “If we make it run faster here, then it might collect or something and that might mean a flood…I think.”

“Makes sense,” said Kirk and I nodded.

“Okay,” said Everett. “I’ll first have to make sure it slows down _after_ getting to the water wheel. Maybe make the river wider at the bottom while narrowing it at the top.”

“Careful all of this doesn’t break the water wheel,” I said.

“Nah. That’s sorted,” he said. “I’ll have to wait until we’ve installed the thing before working the river.”

Theo built the base for the house, then Kirk did the complicated work of making all the parts that stuck out to connect the giant wheel Everett had made. He used his power a few times to make the river deeper to fit in the water wheel, which meant the river flowed faster and he had to accelerate working ahead of it so the shape wouldn’t be changed downstream.

I wasn’t needed for most of the work and I focused on my silks. Any space that didn’t have people living in, I used for my bugs to work. I had my bugs work over time to make more honey and I used the excursions up and down the hill to get my bees to get pollen from flowers further from my range.

I’d long ago flicked off the mental switches that told my spiders when it was time to breed and every few days new spider eggs hatched.

When our food was halfway done, Theo, Kirk and some of our hedge knights took some horses down to Fairmarket to restock. It meant building was stalled in the two weeks they were gone, but Everett thought the two needed some time to settle the last of their differences. Which I found odd because it looked like they were otherwise getting along.

Another squirrel visited the castle grounds three nights after Theo and Kirk had left and this time it didn’t spook as it saw my bugs. It only turned away, starting run towards castle. I kept tracked of it with my bugs, watching as it got lost in the upper, trying to find its way down. I made an arrow to guide the squirrel and Leana woke with a start. She sat up, looking in my direction for at least a minute.

“I’m awake,” I told her. “You used your power again.”

“Yes, goddess,” she said, her voice a whisper. “I…I tried to follow, but I pushed too much and I woke up.”

I sat up. “You can’t control it?” I asked.

She shook her head. “The squirrel is not my friend,” she said. “It’s hard to control things that aren’t my friends.”

“And…the rats were your friend?” I said, feeling my stomach drop, my thoughts starting to spiral.

“Yes, goddess,” she whispered.

The castle didn’t have any animals that weren’t livestock, not dogs or cats, and I’d killed all the wild rats here when I’d arrived. So the next day, I had Duran, Forrest and one of the hedge knights travel to Fairmarket to get a puppy for Leana, and maybe a cat for Arina because she really wanted one. At the end, I told Duran to get a litter of puppies and kittens because this place needed more life.

It took another week before the others came back, Duran and the little animals with them. They weren’t the youngest puppies and kittens, at least half a year old give or take. But we now had ten little animals with us with a few families that wanted their own.

Leana had first pick and she chose two mutts, one of them as black as night, and the other with tawny red fur. She named tawny dog Ember while the black one she called Cinder.

“You must love fire,” Kirk muttered after hearing the name.

“Fire saved me,” she muttered.

Arina chose two animals for herself: a kitten that was largely black with a few white spots on its back and part of its face, which she named Hubris; and a runt with a black coat she called Darth.

Theo caught my eye as I watched people choosing kittens and puppies and I felt a sense of dread that seeped into my voice as I gave a warning to everyone that cruelty to pets was tantamount to cruelty to one’s own child and it wouldn’t be accepted.

We went to the round table and I smiled a little because Leana didn’t follow me as she usually did, instead focusing on her puppies. She didn’t shrink as Arina chattered on about all the fun she would have with her new pets.

“Trouble,” I said.

“Something happened at the Inn at the Crossroads,” said Theo. “Catlyn Stark took Tyrion Lannister hostage.”

“I’ve heard those names before,” said Everett. “They’re important.”

“Catlyn Stark is the wife of the Hand of the King, my lord,” said Duran, “and Tyrion Lannister is the im— _brother_ to Queen Cersei.”

“Fuck _me,”_ Everett muttered. “What does this mean?”

“War,” I said.

Duran nodded. “That seems likely, my lady,” he said. “The Lannister have a saying, ‘A Lannister always pays their debts,’ and with the type of man that Lord Tywin Lannister is, there’ll be retribution for this. I’m sure.”

I let out a long sigh, my eyes on Everett. His eyes weren’t on me, but on Kirk. I turned my gaze and saw Kirk leaning against a wall, his hands crossed and his expression even. No emotion, but I could feel the tension in his shoulders through my bugs, I could feel that apart of him was starting to droop into the wall.

_Fuck._

Stuff didn’t just disappear because we stopped talking about it. It was always there, except it wasn’t at the surface. But the slightest disturbance and it could all come back. How would things look from Kirk’s perspective? Like we were prioritising the people of Westeros instead of the slaves over the Narrow Sea.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

“Word is, Lady Stark is headed for her home of Riverrun,” Duran continued. “It wouldn’t be out of the question for Lord Tywin to send his bannermen to get back his son. I haven’t an idea how the king will reply to the news.”

“What does that mean for us?” asked Everett.

“Lord Hoster might call his banners in reply,” said Duran. “He might also send word here and order you to protect the Riverlands.”

Kirk snorted and there was no mirth in the sound. “We don’t get involved,” he said. He looked at each of us. “Right?”

Everett sighed. “Things might not play out how we think they will,” he said. “Let’s…keep building the castle, making electricity and I’ll keep tinkering. Everything’s going to work out.”

 _No,_ I thought, _it isn’t._

Kirk would leave. With an eye to hindsight, I could see it now, all the little pieces. Everett didn’t want him to leave, but when shit hit the fan, he also wouldn’t be able to keep himself from saving and helping people. It would hurt to see Kirk leave, but I didn’t think there was anything we could say that would see him stay here except magically find a way home.

Better to not waste the effort.

Even if it was cold, better to get as much use out of him as possible so he had a home when he came back.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Grace**

 

“No horses and no horsed men,” I said to Lord Whatever.

It was so early in the morning that the sun had only  _just_ started to peek over the horizon. Usually it was a beautiful sight, one spent with Barden before our morning runs when we were at Oldstones, but now it was filled with the chore of trying to disentangle ourselves from people who loved to stretch things out.

 _You wanted this,_ a part of me thought and I pushed it down, crossing my arms and keeping an eye on the work. Olive was still asleep. Running the cows needed a lot of her attention and that could be draining. She’d held herself together quite well for the last two weeks, but I didn’t want to push things.

 _People are just as important as the mission,_ I reminded myself.

Which was the reason that Barden was following Alex around instead of being close; and the reason why Ava and I stood watch, overseeing the loading of our supplies.

“We breed the finest horses, my lady,” said Lord Whatever. “Strong and with—”

“No horses or horsed men,” I said. “You get three people to send with us or no people at all.”

“Of course, my lady,” Lord Whatever said. He nodded and went off, his advisors leaving with him.

“That was a little harsh,” said Ava when they were out of earshot.

I sighed. “If you’re nice, people walk all over you,” I said. “All of these people want something. We’ve got to remember that.”

“That’s a very dark way to look at the world,” said Ava.

 _A while ago I would have thought that._   _But then people I was protecting were killed._

I shrugged. Ava put an arm around my waist, leaning her head against my shoulder. I smiled and let out a long breath, leaning against her head and closing my eyes.

With no disruptions, it would be two to three weeks before we arrived in King’s Landing. Even with our increased stops or the people we picked up every time we stopped, we were still making good time. We still met people on the road who were pushing their horses  _hard,_ trying to make it to the tourney. Gerard said it was unlikely that they would, unless they traded their horses at every holdfast they passed and they didn’t ever sleep. Thankfully we didn’t have the same weakness.

We’d make it in King’s Landing in time for the tourney and then I’d have to politic.

Fuck.

 _You wanted this,_ a part of me thought and this time pushing it down didn’t help. My brain picked up, slowing down the world and making me think a mile a minute. All the things that could go wrong flickered through my mind: there could be war and that would pull everyone into it, making the world worse because of  _me;_ I could say something wrong and everyone in our group could get killed; or they’d just not look at me as leader and unlike Taylor, I wouldn’t push back enough to prove them wrong.

I could be weak when everyone needed me to be strong.

_You’re a fucking tank. You’re not weak._

_That’s not the strength that’s needed._

A breath in and another out. Being strong wasn’t just about  _personally_ being strong, it was also having strong people around who could help. I had Alex who was a good second-in-command, though he’d been a little distracted by Ser Merwyn lately. Gerard who gave good advice even if he wasn’t entirely loyal to us. Alex had spied on him when we’d been in Raventree Hall, and the knight had given Blackwood everything he could about us. Barden was there for a release of tension, a break from all the stress.

 _I can do this,_ I thought and I let it become a mantra.

I opened my eye, watching as people worked. Supplies in crates being put into compartments and then bound in place. We had twenty people now and that meant we had to be more economical about space. All the supplies had to be tied in place, leaving space for people to sit or stand in the space at the middle. It wasn’t comfortable, by any means, but it beat walking.

Most of them were kitchen staff Blackwood had given to us. He’d said that if we were going to spend any amount of time in King’s Landing it would be better to have our people. Some were men and women we’d picked up on the way, struggling through the long journey for a better life in King’s Landing; others were knights that lords and lordlings wanted to travel with us to attend the tourney.

Maybe I could have said no, but this was also about building relationships and being kind could do that.

“I didn’t know I’d miss Theo this much,” said Ava. She turned to me. “We’ve only been gone a few weeks, but it feels like longer.”

“It creeps on you,” I said. My eyes found Barden. He stood beside Alex who was talking with Gerard and Merwyn. He stood back, not really participating in the conversation but his expression was serene. He looked in our direction, noticed me looking, and smiled.

I smiled too.

“Yeah,” she said. “Makes you look over a lot of shit.”

“You know he didn’t mean to, right?” I said. I shrugged. “It’s just…guys need to talk about these things too.”

Ava sighed. “I guess,” she said. “But it still sucks. I trusted him, told him things I didn’t tell anyone else and he goes and tells them to Kirk. That part still pisses me off.”

“I don’t think you’re being fair,” I said. Ava pulled away from the hug, giving me a look. I raised my hands. “Remember, I only have one side of the story,  _yours,_ and I still think you’re not being fair. Maybe that says something?”

Ava swallowed and looked down. She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about this,” she said.

_Everett would know what to say._

No, he wouldn’t. Because Everett was a kid like me and sometimes this shit could be too much for him.

He’d broken down because of the pressure, made a mistake and given too much away. He’d broken the group a little, taken away their hope, and even if he’d tried to put things back together again, some of the pieces had been too broken.

It was fucked up when I really thought about it, that Everett making a mistake made me feel better. But it was, and the niggling voice of doubt made it hard for me to forget.

Ava and Theo’s situation was complicated. As Ava explained it, Theo was going through a crisis of faith. Unlike what most people thought, Theo’s father hadn’t really been religious, just an opportunist, but Theo was. But after all the shit he’d seen, the shit that was going on, his faith had started to wane.

He was having trouble fitting the existence of evil into his faith.

He and Ava had been working through that, and Ava thought she’d been successful. But it turns out she wasn’t and instead he’d chosen to go to Kirk for help, he’d been talking to him and sharing details of  _their_ conversations in the process.

I didn’t think it was that cut and dried, there was a whole lot that Ava had missed and because she’d was my source, there was a lot that  _I_  was missing. This wouldn’t be as easy as just saying she was right and letting her be angry, a good team leader would try and resolve the situation.

 _I’m the mom and the dad,_ I thought.

A gentle hand when it was needed, stricter and harder when the time came.

Here, Everett would be soft, but what Ava really needed was a hard hand.

“Even if you don’t want to talk about it then you need to hear it,” I said. I looked at her. “Your relationship is still new. For the longest time you were in-tune, you just gelled, but you’re people and you’re not like that, there were bound to be things you saw differently.”

Ava’s mouth was a line, her arms crossed and her shoulders squared.

_I’m losing her._

“This is just that. I’m not trying to minimise it or anything, but just…I don’t know, remember that there’s a whole lot more going on in people’s heads than what you see?”

Ava sighed. “A part of me wishes he was here,” she said. “So we could talk about this. Work things out. Now it’ll maybe be months before we’re together again.”

I tried to think about what to say and I didn’t find anything. So I hugged her, leaning my head against her shoulder.

By the time the sun had risen over the horizon we were already on our way, twenty people holding on for dear life as Olive tore through the well-worn path to King’s Landing. Our stops were regimented and we kept our distance from any holdfasts so we could limit our stopping time.

Olive dictated when we went to sleep and she liked to ride until it was heavy into the night.

“You think you’re maybe pushing it?” said Alex one night. We sat in a clearing near the road, a fire between us and the smell of meat drifting through the air. “We don’t need you nodding off tomorrow.”

“I’m keeping it cool,” said Olive. “You haven’t fallen  _once_ this time around.”

“True. True,” said Alex. “But you should be asleep.”

“No worries, Wispy,” Olive said with a grin. “I can handle it. How’s your romance with Ser Jawline going?”

“That’s  _not_ what I’m doing,” said Alex. I glanced at everyone who was with us. The space was large enough we could speak without the others listening in. Gerard and Merwyn were out on patrol, checking for any bandits that might try to rob us in the night.  “And can you be softer, I don’t need want to out Merwyn before he’s ready.”

“Out of what, god-father?” said Barden.

“Just out. It means telling people he’s gay,” said Alex.

“Gay, as in…he sleeps with other men?” said Barden.

“Yep,” said Olive.

“Why would that be important?” Barden asked.

“A lot of shit through history,” said Alex. “The fact that people like me aren’t exactly liked.” He smiled and shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, just…not something I wanna do until he’s ready.”

“But we know,” said Barden.

“That’s because we also know that they’re iying-tray to eep-kay us ose-clay,” said Olive.

“Yeah. That,” said Alex.

“I didn’t understand any of that,” said Barden.

“What  _are_ you planning with him?” I asked.

Alex shrugged. “I’m thinking maybe I’ll be Legend,” he said and he shrugged again. “I know it might cause a lot of flak, but like…shouldn’t we try to make sexual acceptance be a thing as early as possible?”

“But that’s not why we’re here,” said Ava. I could see her look down in the low light, play with her hands. “I’m sorry if this seems insensitive, but…maybe that it’s not a good idea.”

_Fuck me. Please. Not again._

“Did I ever tell you guys how I got my powers?” said Alex. Everyone went quiet. He smiled but it was tight. “Some piece of shit found out about me.” He shrugged. “I’d been hiding it and he found out and he threatened to out me.” He swallowed. “I sort of didn’t want that to happen, so I…took some pills.”

 _“Fuck,”_  said Olive.

“Oh no,” Ava muttered.

“What are pills?” Barden whispered.

“Later,” I muttered back.

“It’s okay,” said Alex. “I’m fine. I’m no longer like… _that_ anymore. But other people are and I sort of don’t want that? So if I’m Legend, I can sort of ease things. It won’t make  _everything_ be better, but I’ll be that sign for some kid somewhere that it’s okay, y’know?”

For a few moments no one said anything.

“Fuck it,” said Olive. She stood up and moved her blankets so she sat next to Alex. “Don’t know if you got off on Evey being the one who hugged you—”

“Gross,” said Alex. “He’s like a brother.”

“—but you’re big about that shit, so. You want a hug?”

“Sure,” said Alex.

I let out a relieved breath. “You’re gonna have to be careful,” I said.

“They do anything to any of us and we’re gonna show them shit,” said Olive. One of her men minions shifted, the sound of metal filling the air as it flexed. People jumped, some huddling together while others reached for swords and long knives.

“Everything’s fine!” I said. “Romp’s just showing off.”

People settled but they didn’t go back to sleep.

“Anyway, can we talk about something lighter than this?” said Olive. “Maybe a story?”

“Lord Annex isn’t here,” said Barden. “He tells the best stories.”

“Maybe you could tell us one,” I said. “A story we’re not used to.”

“I’m terrible at stories,” said Barden.

“I’m so bored even Prestige and Passions would be good,” said Olive.

“What? Prestige and Passions is good,” said Ava.

“If you’re into stupid telenovelas,” said Olive.

I leaned against Barden, tuning them out with a smile on my face.

£

_Fuck me._

_Fuck me._

_Fuck me._

If my dates were right, we were a few days ahead of schedule. We’d pushed until we reached the Golden Road before slowing, and it hadn’t been because we wanted to. There’d been scouts on the Golden Road and on finding us, had happily offered to tell the king of our coming.

I hadn’t wanted to slow down. It was better in these things to catch people by surprise. But Gerard said this was custom and it allowed the king to prepare.

Our slowed pace meant we’d travelled for three days before King’s Landing came in sight, a  _large_ city with a palpable stench that rolled over farms and hills, hitting like a brick to the face. All of it not made better by the fact that the day was hot and the wind offered no reprieve.

That wasn’t the  _worst_ part.

The worst part were all the people.

Men on horses and on foot, carrying swords, spears or bows; others carried banners with different motifs, the largest two having a black stag with a crown against a black background, and a gold lion against a red background. An army stood in neat formations, ordered by the weapon held. The group at centremost position was the most heavily armoured: men in heavy armour on armoured horses, they had swords strapped to their sides and lances held ready; amongst them were knights dressed in white, all standing around three people that  _screamed_ important.

“Anyone else wish Weaver was here,” said Olive. She’d slowed her minions, walking them so that she kept the civilians back while we were at the fore on the smaller cows.

No one said anything.

“Because I feel like she’d know how to play this,” Olive continued.

I swallowed, suddenly aware of myself. We’d washed since slowing down but it had been perfunctory, a quick dip into cold water to lessen the amount of gunk we had. My hair was a mess and I wasn’t dressed in costume, because for all I’d expected a welcome, I hadn’t expected  _this._

“She’d probably show off or something,” said Olive. “Do something big that’ll make them flinch.”

I noticed her glance.  _“Don’t,”_ I said. “Keep moving slowly.”

Olive nodded, keeping a sedate pace while I let my mind run.

_This is where it begins. Where I show that I’m a good leader. That I won’t screw this up._

King Robert was clear: a fat, pink-faced man with a thick beard and black hair combed back to make room way for his crown; to King Robert’s left was a boy, blonde and sharp featured; and to his right a man with dark hair and dour features.

“Wanton—” I said.

“Yes!” said Romp.

“—disappear and get close. They have arrows. In case they fire, I want you to protect us.”

“What’s the plan?” said Wanton.

“Spectacle,” I said. He nodded and disappeared. I noticed a few reactions but nothing punctuated. We were still far enough away that they would think it was a trick of the light.

“Cuff.” She jumped a little. “Quickly armour up. We’re gonna jump. Three-point landing.”

Cuff nodded, stood on her cow and jumped to the civilian cow, denting it a little on landing. She jumped to the back.

“Look away, please,” she said to the people there before she started to strip, pulling on pieces of her armour. She was quick even with the shakiness and she seemed to have settled by the time she fully had her armour on.

“What am I supposed to do?” said Romp and Poltergeist looked at me with the same question.

“Run if this doesn’t work,” I said. “Tell Tecton and Weaver what happened.”

“No fun,” said Romp, but she nodded. I looked at Poltergeist and he nodded as well.

“Cuff?”

“I’m ready,” she said.

I stood on my cow minion, shifting my weight so I wouldn’t fall as we walked. I noticed speaking, the dour man saying something to King Robert and the king holding up a hand. He said something and the blond boy’s horse shifted back, some of the men in white armour moved to hide him.

“Three…” I said, watching the ground. I spotted a bit of dirt moving, sign that Wanton was close to the King’s party.

“Two…”

_Please don’t be a fuck up._

_Please don’t be a fuck up._

_Please don’t be a fuck up._

“One.”

Cuff and I jumped, the sound of a crash reverberated as I dented my cow. We sailed into the air, with Cuff sailing further and higher than me. I looked down, focused on stances and weapons. People had stumbled back, others had moved their hands to hold their swords while others had pointed their spears and raised shields. The archers, though, hadn’t reacted in pulling up and targeting, which I was thankful for.

I moved my invulnerability to my legs as I started down, angling so I landed in a three-point landing. The ground cracked and shattered, large chunks tearing from the earth, crashing into each other and forming a cloud of dust that radiated out from me; Cuff landed a half second after me, further still, and the detonation was larger, bigger chunks out of the ground and that a larger cloud of dust that spread out.

Wanton helping us with the effect.

I stood, feeling as my hair was gently pulled so it flowed behind me. Cuff hadn’t had time to tie her hair and I could see the same effect from her as she stood, her hair fluttering in a wind that wasn’t there. I walked forward and Cuff waited until I reached her before she followed me.

The men in white armour pulled out their swords as we got close.

My eyes found King Robert’s.

I let out a breath. I’d thought about this a  _lot._ Weaver and Tecton hadn’t really given me any plan, maybe a sign that they trusted me to handle this. A part of me wished they had given me something, because then I could blame my mistakes on them, even if I would have hated them for doing that.

This was all me and no one else, and if it didn’t work, it would all be on me.

I knelt, bowing my head.

Cuff froze then did the same a second later.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Your Grace,” I said.

 _Deference,_ I thought. Because even if we were lying about how long we’d stay here, we were at least telling the truth about not wanting power.

 _Maybe this is why you_ really  _didn’t want to come here, Weaver,_ I thought,  _because you’d never be able to do this._

“Rise,” said King Robert, his booming. I did. “Name yourself.”

“Grace, Your Grace,” I said, “and this is my companion Cuff.”

“It’s said you’re gods,” he said.

The complicated part. I didn’t know the of person King Robert was, even Gerard didn’t. He knew  _of_ the man, knew of the war he’d fought for Lynna Stark, but beyond that there was only word and policy. Not enough for us to know what he’d respect and what he’d fear.

“They say that, Your Grace,” I said.

“But is it true?”

“We have powers some would call godly,” I said.

_Fuck, I’m doing your thing._

“Knowledge they would call great,” I continued, not making the mental effort to stop because I might trip on my words. “But we’re only people in the ways that matter.”

“People in that you need to eat?” he asked.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“You’ve travelled a long journey in a short time. You’ll be hungry,” said King Robert. “I offer you mead and bread at my table. A stay in my keep so long as you want it.”

“You honour us, Your Grace,” I said. “Cuff, tell the others to move faster.”

Cuff nodded, turned and took off. She was fast with her armour on and when she was close enough to jump she did. One of the small cow minions ran to intercept her fall and Cuff landed lightly onto it. After a word, our group started forward, Romp pushing her minions faster than I thought comfortable for the passengers.

“You’ll ride with us,” said King Robert. “It’s a long way to my keep. Time that you can spend casting away the wives’ tales I’ve heard. Apparently you come from far off lands.”

 _“_ Another _world_ , Your Grace,” I said.

“Another world. How?” the blonde boy asked.

“You’ve yet to introduce us, Your Grace,” said the dour looking man, and his even his voice sounded dour.

“Right. Right,” said King Robert. “This is my Hand, Eddard Stark—” the blonde boy sneered before reining it in, “—and my son, Joffrey Baratheon.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” I said with a quick bow.

“You too, my lady,” said Eddard.

“Likewise,” said Joffrey.

“The rest of these lot are not names worth remembering,” said King Robert. “Least for now. About this other world. What do you mean when you say that?”

I opened my mouth and closed it again as Romp arrived with her minions. They stopped behind me, with Romp slightly in the lead. She grinned as she looked from all of them, her posture too relaxed for how important this part was. She gave them a salute and my stomach dropped. Confused expression passed over their faces.

“It’s a gesture of greeting,” I explained.

“Means what up,” said Romp.

I heard a hitch of breath, people shifting and I glanced back to see Wanton sitting behind Romp, one hand held over her mouth. Romp struggled for a bit before she relaxed.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace,” said Wanton. “She’s mouthy.”

Robert chuckled while Eddard continued to look dour.

I jumped back to my minion and after a look at Romp, she had my cow take the lead, moving so it walked between King Robert and Eddard Stark, Joffrey on the other side of his father.

“How does this move?” said Joffrey, looking at my cow. “Is it alive?”

“Yes,” I said. “Romp empowers it.”

“Romp,” said King Robert. “That’s a strange name. As are all your names, though yours not so much. Cuff?”

“People here call it a god-name,” I said. “But it’s a name used in our culture when we’re working in an official capacity. She is Romp, that’s Wanton,” he waved, “and Barden had taken the name Poltergeist.”

“Hello,” said Cuff, her voice small.

“An honour to meet you, Your Grace, my Prince and you too, Lord Hand,” said Barden, his voice as hard as when he’d first met us.

“Is it a part of your culture to do away with titles?” said Joffrey.

“Quiet, boy,” said King Robert. Joffrey blushed, looking down. “Though he does make a good point.”

We passed the army of men and went through the gate. The knights in white moved ahead, using their presence to force back a sea of people standing in the street. So many people here to watch us, most of them looking at us with frowns.

“Yes, Your Grace,” I said. “It’s an exercise to remember to even title you. At most, we title our elders by mister if they’re a man, and miss if they’re a woman. There are other special titles, but they’re so rare it’s not offensive to forget.”

Romp said some muffled words.

King Robert glanced back. “Speak, girl,” he said.

Wanton waited a moment before he let out a sigh and removed his hand.

“Unless they’re being an ass,” said Romp.

I shot her a look and she shrugged. Weaver and she had shared words. I had to wonder what special instructions Romp had been given. I made a mental note to speak to her when we were alone.

King Robert let out a short laugh. “Come closer, girl,” he said to Romp. “What is it they called you?”

“Romp,” she said, then, “Your Grace.”

Her cow pulled a little faster, coming to sidle between King Robert her his son. Joffrey let out a snort but said nothing, pulling at the reins of his horse to keep it from ambling too far away.

“I want  _you_ to answer my questions,” he said. “I feel like this one—”

“Robert,” said Eddard.

“Much like Ned, your leader,” said Robert. “Reserved. Careful about what she says.”

My heart started to beat faster, my mouth going dry.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

“Our real leader’s like that too,” said Romp. “Weaver. She’s quiet most of the time. So much that you think she’s reasonable, then  _bam,_ you’ve got millions of bugs biting your skin and eyes, going down your nose and mouth. It’s what she did to Alexandria, and everyone thought she was unkillable.”

Time slowed and I let the panic play out. I watched their bodies, how their shoulders squared and their faces creased. I saw as Robert and Ned shared a look, one I couldn’t read, but one that came from one knowing the other.

Romp was threatening them and she wasn’t even being subtle.

_Fuck me and fuck all of this._

“She sounds like quite the woman,” Eddard said, his voice stern and even.

“She is, my lord,” I put in, “Thankfully she’s tempered by Tecton. They share leadership of our group.”

_Hopefully you get what I’m saying. That even if Weaver’s a hard ass, there’s still someone you can talk to and think you can get your way._

“Tell me more of your world,” said Robert, his joviality gone.

“Of course, Your Grace,” I said and I started telling him about cape culture. The worst thing that could happen to us was being dehumanised: Weaver had been afraid of people thinking us less than and she’d gone drastically in the other direction, making them think we were more than. There was danger in both direction which was why I focused on the day-to-day, the sort of crappy admin work that could come with being a cape that a king no doubt had to deal with a lot.

Meetings that ran on too long, discussing crime statistics and response times, all while trying to make things as simple as possible.

We kept a sedate path, moving through the wider streets at the base of Visenya’s Hill. All through the way, it seemed that people knew we were coming and they flocked to come see us. Standing in alleyways, peeking through windows and on the roof, leaning down to watch us.

I kept an eye on them as we walked. I didn’t think we’d be assassinated, but I didn’t want to let down my guard.

It took us a good few hours before we reached the gates of the Red Keep.

£

 _“Wanton,”_ I said.  _“Scan for eyes and ears. Make sure we’re alone.”_

Wanton nodded and disappeared.

We’d arrived at the Red Keep and met a  _heap_ of people. There’d been King Robert’s immediate family: his wife, Queen Cersei, and their younger children, Myrcella and Tommen; then the Lord Hand’s children: Sansa and Arya; and then the members of the Small Council: Master of Laws and the king’s brother, Lord Renly Baratheon; Master of Coin, Lord Peytr Baelish; Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Barristan Selmy; Grand Maester Pycelle; and the Master of Whispers, Varys.

After the introductions, King Robert had given us a tower in the Red Keep and time to get cleaned up before a feast started. Today it would be small, just a meeting of the Small Council and a few of their invited guests, but in the future, there would have to be a larger affair where the lords and ladies in King’s Landing could be invited.

It was something I hated about this place and part of the reason I’d been so stern with the Lord Whatevers we’d met while travelling down here. They liked to stretch things out so they could show us off. Here, it was much larger and unfortunately, I couldn’t do anything about it.

Our people worked around us while we mostly sat back. Carting things from the ground into the tower. Olivia walked out to a balcony and looked into our part of the yard; Ava joined her and the two shared light conversation. Gerard and Merwyn talked with some of the knights who’d chosen to stay with us, four in total; from what I could hear, they were talking about guard duties and who would be where when. There was also something about the docks.

Barden came closer and took my hand, offering me a smile.

I let out a breath, letting my shoulders relax.

_Everything’s fine._

Barden found us a chair where we sat, largely in silence.

“Gonna go exploring,” said Olivia.

“No,” I said.

She stopped, waited for me to say something. When I didn’t, she harrumphed, found a couch and sat.

Wanton appeared.  _“There’s no one around, but there’s a space between the walls. Too small for most people to comfortably move through.”_

“You guys are talking too fast,” said Olivia. “Slow down. Some of us didn’t pay attention in Spanish.”

 _“There’s a chance we might be spied on,”_ I said, tapping my ears. Ava had come in and she quietly wrung her hands.  _“Is that the only one?”_

Wanton shook his head.  _“They’re centred around places important people would live in. Our bedrooms have spaces in the bottom that lead into the tight rooms, there are some in drawing rooms and studies, and that sort of thing. But there aren’t as many in the kitchens or the servant areas.”_

I let out a breath then pulled it in, held it.

“Knights,” I said and our six knights stood at attention. “My apologies, but I’m going to ask you to leave.”

“We have business to attend to,” said Gerard, his shoulders squared.

“You’ll stay,” I said.

He stopped, frowned, then nodded. “You know what you have to do?” he said to Merwyn.

Merwyn nodded. “My lords,” he said, with a bow. “My ladies. We’ll be leaving.” He and the rest left, leaving only us and Gerard.

“Gerard,” I said. “We know about your conversation with Lord Blackwood.” Gerard tensed. “I don’t care,” I said before he went on. “If anything, I like it because it shows you’re loyal to your lord. I’m just wondering about the endgame.”

“I’m not sure I understand, my lady,” his said, his voice tense. I looked and everyone was tense.

“Why are you here? Why are you with us?” I asked.

Gerard swallowed. “Lord Blackwood told me to stay because I had already built a rapport,” he said. “He wants to create an alliance between the gods and himself. Since it is so hard for you all to allow an outsider into your group and I had already started, it was best for me to stay.”

“Dish some info on us when you get back?” said Olivia.

“Yes,” said Gerard. “I…shared things you did not hide from others. I told him of your personalities and perhaps of structures, but I did not spy. I was around all of you and I shared the things you spoke about openly, none of the matters we discussed in private, when you talked to me as one of you. To do such would be dishonourable.”

“Like what?” said Ava.

“The strife between the gods when we left,” he said. “I was not a part of the conversation, but the division were still clear to see. There…I’ve heard you speak of your circumstances, that matters might mean you’ll forever live in the Westeros and I know that you’ve lied about this to Lord Bracken. I did not tell Lord Blackwood of this.”

“Why?” asked Alex.

“Because I know the people you are,” he said. “I have seen the effort you have put into helping the smallfolk where you could, I have seen the lengths that you would go to protect  _life_ even when it might inconvenience your personal goals. I trust that if you have concocted this lie, then you do so for the protection of the realm.”

I let out a sigh and nodded. “I know there was no vote on it when it was Barden,” I said. “But I think Gerard should have a seat at the table.”

“Seconded,” said Barden. “Ser Gerard has treated me well, always. There is none of the derision when he calls me lordling that I hear from others. From the little I know of him, he’s a good man.”

“Thirded,” said Ava.

Alex shrugged. “We haven’t really talked,” he said to Gerard. “I’m abstaining.”

“Me too,” said Olivia.

“But you have the votes,” I said. “You get to see behind the veil. Your word has as much weight as everyone else’s.”

“Your honour me, my lords and ladies,” he said.

“Another perk is that you don’t have to call us lords and ladies,” said Olivia.

“You also get to be a part of arguments,” said Ava. “I feel like one is coming.”

I rounded on Olivia. “What the  _fuck_ was that?” I said. “You just up and threaten the king?”

“Yeah,” said Olivia with a shrug. “If he tries something—”

“You  _don’t_ get to do that,” I said. “You don’t get to just play with our lives like it’s some joke.”

“It  _isn’t_ some joke,” she said. “It was calculated.”

“As, fuckin’, if,” I said.

Olivia frowned. “It fucking was,” she said. “Now he knows that there are more of us and that if anything happens to us, they’ll come here and end him.”

“He already knew that,” I said. “Brynden knows Petyr Baelish, do you think he didn’t update him on the number of capes we have? Do you think Lord Bracken didn’t for some type of favour? I wouldn’t be surprised if they knew all our powers for Christ’s sake. That back there wasn’t needed.”

“It fuckin was. Threats should be all up in your face,” she said. “Not some cerebral shit that’s all nebulous. Now he knows that if—”

“Quiet,” I said, hands clenched into fists. “What did Weaver tell you? When we were leaving?”

Olivia’s mouth became a line.

“Romp,” I said, standing straighter. “What did she tell you?”

“She told me to wreck this place if they start shit,” she said.

_Because of course she had._

“Drop and give me twenty,” I said.

She gaped.

“I said fucking drop, and give me twenty,” I said.

She dropped and started doing push ups.

“Gerard,” I said. He didn’t jump but tensed. “You’re doing something, with them, the knights.”

“I’m getting more men, my lady,” he said. “Trying to get some to pledge and offering others adventure. We might have to pay others and I’m having Merwyn ride to the harbour so you can get prices on the silks you didn’t gift to King Robert. I was thinking about getting people to dye the silk, offering them a home until we move back to Oldstones.”

“Okay,” I said, getting my bearing and calming myself down. “Wanton, one more time.”

He nodded and disappeared, appearing a minute later and giving the thumbs up.

“The walls have eyes and ears,” I said. “We can’t trust this space with sensitive information when someone might be listening in on what we’re saying. Gerard and Barden, you’ll be taking Spanish lessons with Ava—”

“I can’t teach,” said Ava. “And Alex is better.”

“Alex will be busy spying when he can,” I said. “We don’t have Weaver, which means there might be a lot of shit we might miss. Alex, you’ll try and bridge the gap.”

Alex nodded.

“Barden,” I said. “Keep a tight lid on the exacts of  _how_ you got your powers. The story as of now is that you share some familial relationship with Alex and being around him happened to give you yours.”

He nodded.

“Olivia,” I said. She grunted, still doing her push-ups. “Don’t try anything. If you need to wreck some shit, then I’ll be the one to fucking tell you. None of this trying to be smart shit.”

“Fine,” she grunted.

“Alex, we’ll have to think about closing down that spaces,” I said. “Or maybe putting in traps so we know when someone’s on the other side. As for now, we limit the amount of sensitive information we trade here unless we find a place we can talk in private. Now let’s get ready for this dinner or lunch or whatever.”

£

“You’re not wearing a dress,” said Queen Cersei.

I’d met beautiful women since coming here, but all of them had signs that they’d lived, that they’d  _worked._ Queen Cersei, from the looks of it, hadn’t. She was a slim and delicate woman, her skin pale and flawless, and blonde hair that looked even better than Gerard’s set in an intricate style. She was only  _just_ taller than me, but the way she sat made her seem taller. She sat beside me and yet looked  _down_ on me.

I wore silk pants, but my trousers were formal-wear and my shirt the type that had puffy sleeves. I hadn’t really liked it, but Alex knew fashion and she said they fit me quite well. It was better not to argue with him.

“Yeah. I mean, yes, Your Grace,” I said. Green eyes shifted for a millisecond before they calmed. “We’re all about doing what you feel comfortable with where I’m from.”

I looked at Ava who was the  _picture_ of a lady. During our preparations a servant had arrived with gifts from Lord Petyr Baelish. Dresses for the girls and dress-wear for the guys. Ava had loved her dress and now had it on corset and all, her hair done up in one of the styles of King’s Landing; Olivia wore a mermaid silhouette dress Weaver had done for her, it wasn’t coloured, but the type of dress played well with silk’s natural colour.

But Olivia was showing her shoulders and part of her chest which had caused quite the murmur storm.

“I can see that,” said Queen Cersei.

Around was music, a harp loudly playing and a woman singing in a language I couldn’t understand. There were jugglers moving in the periphery, adding more and more objects the more they moved. One of them would even let some of the stuff his head, much to the amusement of his audience.

“I heard you’re a  _warrior,”_ said Arya and it was a little surprising to see her so close. When I’d last had my eyes on her, she’d been sitting with Prince Tommen.

I smiled. “I am,” I said. “All of us are. It’s our jobs.”

“Like knights?” she said.

I frowned. “As I understand it, knights look after the interests of their lords and ladies. We do what’s within the law but we protect the common folk more than lords and ladies.”

“So you don’t have to be a lady if you’re a girl?” she said, with a wide smile and wider eyes.

“If you don’t want to, no,” I said. “Or you can be both.”

“That sounds preposterous,” said Lady Tanda, an old woman with greyed hair, a sharp nose and a mean expression. “All know that a woman’s place is in the home, tending it for her husband and children.”

“A woman’s place is wherever she wants it to be,” I said, a little bite in my voice.

“If only that were there world we lived in,” said Queen Cersei. Time slowed and I noticed the frown, the far-off expression before it disappeared. She looked at Arya. “I think it’s worth remembering, little wolf, that this is not her world.” She looked at me. “In ours there’s only one good use for a woman, and that’s if she’s with child.”

“That sounds…” I let out a sigh.

Queen Cersei smiled, looking down the table to other conversations: Olivia had the ear of King Robert and some of his knights, she looked like a lady but here antics were anything but; her head was tilted back as she laughed with the king and the lords around them. My stomach shifted as I looked at them, imagined the stories she was telling them.

Barden had a drink in his hand and his eyes looked droopy. He was talking to the effeminate man in loud purple clothes.  _Varys_ the Master of Whispers. The man was nodding as Barden spoke. Barden took another sip of his goblet, most likely wine.

I took a grape from our table, increased my perception while looking around until there was an opening. I flicked the grape and it hit Barden’s goblet, making it tip forward and spill onto Varys.

Arya gasped.

I put a finger over my lips while smiling. No one else had noticed, everyone’s attention turned to Barden and Varys as the former apologised and the latter brushed him off.

“If you’ll excuse me, Your Grace,” I said.

“Of course,” she said with an absent wave of the hand. I stood, moving over to Barden and took his arm.

“Are you alright?” I asked.

“I think I might have a bit too much to drink,” he said. “I’ve never tasted wine this sweet.”

“I’ll lead you back to the tower,” I said.

He smiled, moving forward to kiss me and I moved back. I shook my head.

“This is a mission,” I said, a whisper. “Look at the others and tell me what they’re doing.”

“Oh, calm down,” he said. “There’s—”

I pulled and he walked with me. I raised my hand and Merwyn was the first to see me. He quickly came closer, decked out in clothes Alex had gifted him.

“My lady,” he said.

“Taking him to the tower to sleep it off,” I said. “Tell everyone?”

He nodded. “Will you need an escort?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. I’ll keep watch until you get back.”

“Of course, my lady,” he said.

Barden and I left, arm in arm.

“I feel like I disappointed you,” he said when we’d turned a lot of corners and were close to our tower.

“You have, if I’m being honest,” I said. “You got  _drunk.”_

“Haven’t had anything to drink since I got my godly powers,” he said. “I might have been too thirsty.”

“Yeah, well, you better get that sorted because this isn’t a good look,” I said. I sighed. “What were you and Varys talking about?”

“Coming from nothing,” he said. “He was asking me about becoming a god. If I had to sell my soul. Told him what you said I should say. About me and god-father Alex being family, and him gifting me his power.”

“Good…good,” I said, letting out a sigh.

I got him back to the tower, through him on his bed and the waited for the others while I did a few training exercises.

Nothing happened during the night, and I let out a relieved breath when the others got back in one piece. After Alex checked over that we weren’t being watched, we had a debrief.

The Master of Coin had offered to finance our silk trade at some point to Alex, though he’d been open to speaking more on the matter; Gerard had spent a lot of his time talking to Eddard Stark and the man had wanted to know more about his time spent with the gods and what they usually did; Olivia had spent a lot of his time telling war stories, restricting it mostly to ridiculous villains we’d fought; and Ava had shared sweet-nothings with the Princess Myrcella and Sansa Stark, after which Prince Joffrey had offered to show her a room with a lot of paintings.

“Wait,” said Olivia. “Does that mean I’m your sloppy seconds?”

“Did he come to you too?” asked Ava.

“Yeah,” said Olivia. “Man, that  _sucks.”_

“In defence to Joffrey, you’re like Kathy,” said Alex. “Too modern. You’d be too much for the guy to handle.”

“Damn, straight,” said Olivia.

“Good first night,” I said. “Now we have to survive until the tourney.”

Gerard dealt with the night watch and we went to our rooms. I didn’t sleep well, waking at the smallest sound and then pacing to take away some of the pent-up energy before sleep caught me off guard. But I woke up as the sun rose the next day, and when I checked, everyone was alive. We ate breakfast with our servants, something they found odd especially in a castle, but it wasn’t something that was up for debate. Theo had noticed that the more people were around us, saw that we weren’t mythic figures, the more at ease they felt.

During breakfast, a man arrived with a letter sealed with a wolf.

“It’s the Lord Hand’s seal, my lady,” said Gerard.

“Well, he wants to meet,” I said and I sighed, giving the letter to Barden who handed it over to Alex. “It’d be rude to keep him waiting, wouldn’t it?”

“It would, my lady,” said Gerard.

I nodded. “Olivia, I need you to run Barden through drills  _hard_ while I’m gone.”

“What?” said Barden, pulling back to look at me.

“You were the only one here who got drunk last night,” I said. The people around us were trying to not look like they were paying attention as they ate. “I don’t mind you drinking in your own time,” I said to the table. “But while you’re working, I won’t have you  _drunk_. Learn to drink responsibly or don’t drink at all.”

“And children  _shouldn’t_ be drinking in the first place,” said Ava. “Too much drinking causes damage to your liver, and the younger you start, the more damage there is.”

“Of course, m’lady,” the word was muttered by the table at large.

“Why do we need livers, m’lady?” a girl that was maybe seven asked. Her mouth beside her paled. We’d picked them up on the road while coming here and they’d chosen to stay with us instead of going off.

“When you eat or drink,” said Ava, “there’s a lot of bad things that come with the food. The liver helps you by cleaning the bad stuff and only letting your body take in the good stuff.”

“So if I eat mud, then my liver will help me?” said the girl.

“No, that’ll just give you a stomach-ache,” Ava said quickly. “I’m talking about real food and things that you can  _actually_ eat.”

“What if I drink water with mud?” asked the girl.

Olivia snorted. “You really like mud, don’t you?”

“I like mud flakes just after it’s rained,” said the girl. “When they’re dry and bent, and they have cracks that make them stick out of the ground.”

“You shouldn’t do that,” said Ava.

“Not too much,” said Alex. “I have a cousin who did that when they were young.”

 _“Yes, but she’s a_ child,” said Ava.  _“She won’t know what too much means.”_

“You’re being rude,” I put in.

Ava blushed. “Sorry,” she said. “Ossy, don’t eat mud, okay? It’s bad for you.”

“Okay,” said Ossy.

“Is the water ready?” I asked. “I’m gonna wash up before I head over to the Hand.”

“Yes, m’lady,” said one of the servants. Unlike Ava I hadn’t committed their names to memory. She stood, shuffling. “I’ll get it—”

“Finish eating first before you work,” I said. “A few minutes won’t kill anyone.”

When my bath was done, I saw that Myrcella, Sansa and a girl I couldn’t remember were already in our yard, the princess playing with Ava’s hair; Olivia and Joffrey were watching as Barden went through his training routine against one of Olivia’s man minions. I kept my distance from them, taking another course that took me into one of the sections reserved for important people.

I didn’t know where it was, but with the bent heads and curtsies directed at me, they knew who I was. So I asked for directions and a man who was maybe thirty years old, dressed in red and gold armour, led me there.

I found Eddard Stark in his solar, a table with food spread out in front of him, though the food was being taken away by his servants.

He didn’t smile, instead he looked at me with cold eyes. The way he moved was stiff, like he eternally expected something bad to happened. He reminded me a little of Kirk when he’d first joined us, shoulders squared and keeping his distance, only talking when you engaged him.

“My lady,” he said. “I had thought we’d break our fast together. But it seems I sent my message too late.”

“Yeah,” I said and I shrugged. He gave me all his attention, looking expectant. I sped up my perception until I figured it out. I took a breath and mentally put on my game face. “We eat with our servants,” I said. “Before we start the day. We eat rather early.”

“I will make note,” he said. “Would you like to seat?” He gestured to a chair that looked out at King’s Landing. A better view than ours.

I sat and he took a seat next to mine.

“My lady…” he said, the words slow and measured.

“You want to know what our deal is,” I said. “I’m sorry, Lord Hand, but as I told the king, I’m not used to titles and I’d rather we rushed through this so we know where we stand.”

Eddard sat back and nodded. “I would like to know your intentions,” he said. “Why are you here, on this world? What do you plan to do while you’re here?”

“We plan on going home,” I said. I took a breath, keeping the lie from my expression. “We were fighting a villain, back home, a person like us who has powers, but theirs allows them to build incredible machines. We didn’t know  _what_ he could build and though we were cautious, it seems it wasn’t cautious enough. He activated one of the machines he built, but something went wrong. It let out a wave of light and we found ourselves on this world.”

“You’re lost,” he said.

I nodded. “And we want to go back,” I said. “All that we’re doing is  _to_  get home. We have someone that can build incredible machines too, but what he builds isn’t suited for a journey between worlds. It’ll take time and a lot of materials. Which is why we’ve been talking about industry, building Oldstones into a place we can live until Tecton, our builder, can get something together that’ll get us back home.”

Eddard nodded slowly. “Why did you refuse the king’s call for so long?” he asked.

“Because it would be getting involved,” I said. “This world isn’t ours and we want to change as little as possible.”

_Even if there’s a lot of shit that’s worth changing._

“We’ve mostly kept to Oldstones, Fairmarket and made one trip to Seagard. We’ve largely kept quiet, hidden ourselves because we know how much of a shock it can be for people like us to appear.”

“My lady, your very presence has itself caused more change than you know,” he said.

“Targaryens and dragons,” I said.

“You know of them?” he said.

“We’ve heard about them,” I said. “We didn’t ask a maester so we’re not sure about the finer details. But the Targaryens came and they changed things drastically. They changed how wars were fought with their dragons, changed the politics of Westeros. A lot of people are afraid we’re going to do the same.”

“Yes, my lady,” he said. “It has to be understood, so long as you’re an element that is not controlled by the king, in fact or in appearance, you make the entire crown look weak.”

I swallowed, unable to keep the frown hidden. “We don’t have any kings we’re I’m from,” I said. “For all intents and purposes, we’re free. I have a feeling you’re going to ask me for something that’s very hard. My lord.”

“I’m asking for a ward,” he said. “One of your people will have their home in the Red Keep until such a time that your Tecton has finished building this… _machine.”_

A breath left me, slow and shaky.

_Easy when I’m the one taking the hostages, when I’m giving away prisoners that I care about only in a moral sense. But when it’s one of my friends…_

“Hypothetically,” I said. “What happens if I say no. If I tell you that I can’t do that?”

“Then you limit what I can do for you,” he said. “Since word reached us of your appearance I have been at the ear of the king, telling him to be reserved. Lord Hoster Tully is the father of my wife, Catlyn, and through him I have been getting a sense of you. I spoke to him to get you here and here you are. But if you turn away, leave nothing to give Robert a sense of security…”

“Fuck me,” I muttered. “I’ll need time, my lord,” I said, standing.

Eddard stood with me. “Of course, my lady. No doubt you’ll want to speak to your companions.”

“Right,” I said with a sigh.

I left, taking the long path and not going directly back to the others.

£

I got lost, but unlike last time I let myself walk to clear my head. I kept away from people, jumping up into the rafter and letting them pass under me when I couldn’t just change paths. I made a game of it, and the game helped distract me.

The castle was an ecosystem on its own and so on my walk, I didn’t really ever walk into the same group of people twice. Moving from the Hand’s Tower meant I moved away from his guards who wore mostly greys and silvers, the motifs of wolves on their clothes, to other knights whose motifs ranged from flowers to bridges to stags.

The part of the castle with the stag was the best in my opinion, where other parts opened into training yards and stables, this part opened into a garden with a large tree set in the centre of a small maze of flowers. There were stables and the like, gates that led outside this small compound into the greater castle, but they were set to the side, out of sight and out of mind.

I came at the garden from a storey up, walking from a balcony that overlooked it. I checked and I couldn’t see anyone so I jumped down, landing as lightly as I could.

The flowers smelled nice and they brought birds. I walked within the garden, doing the stereotypically girly thing of picking one and just smelling it.

_There goes my cred. Thank god there aren’t any cameras._

I found a stone bench while walking, it sat in a little alcove where the shrubs and flowers grew up to hide it from the balcony. But I still could see the tree and all the birds that had built their nests within.

 _The right answer is that I can’t refused them a ward,_ I thought, head hanging back as I watched birds frolicking.

They were small things, maybe sparrows, some of them in dull greys while others were bright blues. The bright blues were no doubt guys going by the wild flapping against each other. It helped to see that they were also the ones building nests.

All of this was about avoiding war or anything that could lead to war. The story was that we’d be staying here only as long as it was needed until we went home. If the story were true, then I could maybe see leaving someone here. It would only be until we left and it would be to make sure that people didn’t start rallying their forces against us for a nonsensical war.

But that wasn’t the case.

Anyone we left here would live with these people for the rest of their lives.

And as leader, it would be  _me_ who ultimately decided who that’d be.

 _Fuck this,_ I thought as another part of me thought,  _the right answer here is that_ you  _should be the one who stays here._

Sometimes it was easy to hate my own thoughts.

“…and what does that mean for us?” said a voice.

I stood. It suddenly hit me that this place would be very good for eavesdropping and that wasn’t something I wanted to be accused of when this wasn’t our part of the castle.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said another. “You were always the plotter between the two of us. I could see you turning this to your adv—”

They stopped as they saw me, stepping apart and disentangling their arms. I’d seen both of them last night, though I really knew one, Renly Baratheon, the king’s younger brother.

“My lady,” he said, his hands clasped behind his back and he smiled. The man at his side stood straight, his mouth a line as he looked at me. He gave me the strong feeling that if I he had a sword he’d cut me down. “I wasn’t told you were here.”

“I was hiding,” I said with a smile, it was on the tighter end. The browned haired man frowned and I remembered. “My lord. I’m sorry, I keep forgetting my courtesies.”

“Oh it’s quite alright, my lady,” he said walking forward. “I once spent a year in the Free City of Braavos and there I met a few Dothraki women. They, like you, had a hard grasp of courtesies.”

“I’m sorry, my lord,” I said to the other man. “I feel we’ve met but I can’t remember your name.”

“We haven’t spoken, my lady,” he said. His frown got deeper. “I am Ser Loras Tyrell of Highgarden.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ser knight,” I said. “Um…I’ll leave you, if you want your privacy.”

Renly’s smile faltered for a millionth of a second while Loras’ frown got deeper.

“Fuck,” I said. They both frowned. Time slowed as I allowed myself time to think. “I’m starting to get a sense of how this must look from the outside. But I’m suddenly scared about what to say.”

“I don’t understand, my lady,” said Renly.

“Um…Alex is gay,” I said. I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead, letting out a long breath. I had to speed up my perception a few times to get my bearings. “That means…he keeps the company of men. Now, he’s…all up in your face…about it? But I understand that there are some people that aren’t…like that. So, if I were to meet such people, I’d be honour bound not to tell anyone else about this fact about them because it would be a betrayal of Alex in a way.”

“And why would you tell us this?” said Renly.

 _Double speak,_ and he was quite good at it.

I shrugged. “Just something I felt like saying,” I said.

“You and yours are quite…odd, my lady,” said Loras.

“We’re brash. It’s a culture thing,” I said with a shrug. I sighed. “Anyway, I’ll go. You have a very beautiful garden.”

“Thank you,” Renly said.

I walked until I found my way back to our tower. Olivia, Barden and one of the Riverlands knights had gone into the city; Ava had been invited for lunch with Queen Cersei and she’d gone for that. When I got back, it was to find only Alex and Gerard, the former teaching the latter Spanish.

They stopped as they saw me.

“We were starting to get worried,” said Alex.

“Needed to clear my head,” I said. He held up a hand that went to his ear then around. I shook my head. I still wasn’t sure what I’d be doing in the long term with the spying, but right now it was better if they didn’t know that we knew. “The Lord Hand wants us to give him ward.”

 _“Fuck,”_ said Alex.

Gerard frowned. “I don’t understand,” he said.

“You don’t trade with lives,” said Alex. “That’s like a  _thing_ with us. A ward is a hostage, pure and simple.”

“A ward also ensures a good union between two houses,” said Gerard. “To mistreat one’s ward is to bring great dishonour to your house. You  _took_ a ward from Lord Bracken’s bannermen.”

“Yeah,” I said. Because  _I’d_ been the one who’d agreed to all that shit. Was this some sort of sick karma at work, forcing me to make the reverse decision? I looked at Alex. “We’re gonna have to, if we want to make sure we don’t cause any shit.”

 _“Fuck,”_ Alex said again. He took a breath, held it in then disappeared.

 _We all have our ways to deal,_ I thought, even if I felt antsy. I could speed up my perception and my thoughts, which meant this was really  _dragging._

Five minutes passed before he returned to his human form.

“Okay,” he said and he smiled. “We can figure this out.”

 _There’s nothing to figure out,_ I thought. If we didn’t accept, then they’d see that we were uncontrollable and that could just make them jump the gun. I remembered the large army from earlier and thought about how hard it would be to wade through that, the lives that’d be lost because of it.

Then I thought further, thought about all the men that would be called and all the men that would have to die, and for  _what?_ At the end of the day, none of us wanted to rule this place and after a war we’d either have to leave things in a state of chaos or take the reins.

Both not good options.

“There’s only one option,” I said.

“Yeah,” said Alex, his grin was tight, “and I think I feel good about it.”

 _Fuck…you,_ I thought, then it hit me that we might not be talking about the same person.

I looked at him, looked away from his smile and to his eyes, how shaky they were.

“I’m staying,” I said, but the words were feeble, there was a  _hope_ that he’d say no and as he shook his head a part of me was relieved.

“It doesn’t mean much,” he said. “But I’m older.” He smiled a little wider. “And maybe this is a good thing for what I’m trying to do, right?”

“Yeah,” I muttered, a sigh leaving me.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Wanton**

 

A touch and a bit of applied force and I got a clear sense of everything around me. Within the area I’d spread out I could still see and hear, but touch always became my best sense. From a touch I could tell the difference between stone and wood, feel if a surface was hollow or firm, and I could feel all crevices and holes.

It’s how I’d sensed the holes behind a nailed in painting in my room, looking at my bed from across the room, and the thin slit at the base of a wall. It’s how I’d sensed the false panel in the floor next to my bed, one I still hadn’t figured out how to open.

I moved to the slit at the base of the wall, pushing myself through without effort. It took a bit before I was all through, there seemed to be an abstract conceptualisation of the space I filled and I had to move all of me before I could pull myself into my human form. Even if I was technically a ghost in my breaker form, I still couldn’t move through solid objects.

The space between the walls was narrow and short, a  _pain_ for anyone that wasn’t particularly thin or short to move through. But I was prepared to deal with the discomfort, this would be a long night and I needed to pace myself.

I pulled myself back into my human form, bent forward and with my shoulders touching either side of the walls. There was only darkness and the feel of cold stone against my clothes and skin, with a wet smell that rose up from the ground.

 _Don’t panic,_ I thought.  _You’ve done this before._

I started moving, with only the darkness and my thoughts to keep me company. Three days and we still hadn’t told the others. I was starting to get to the point where I was starting to feel guilty about it. But it was so hard to find the right time, when I wouldn’t be undercutting people’s high. Ava really liked being a lady, and being with Princess Myrcella and Sansa Stark made her happy; Olive and Joffrey spent a lot of time together, the former liking the attention even if she knew nothing would come of it; and Barden was enjoying the city life, spending a lot of his time travelling with whoever he could to whatever part of King’s Landing.

Each day for them was new adventure and I wasn’t comfortable capping it off with bad news.

So we’d waited, not told them after the first day and dithered on the second and today had ended with it being planned and never coming up.

The floor disappeared.

I quickly switched into my breaker form and spread out, getting a sense of the tunnel. The ceiling and floor had dropped lower, making a space that would be easy to fall from if the terrain was still new. I felt along the walls while moving forward, using my touch to look for scratches I’d carved into the walls to give me a sense of direction.

I had no watch but I was sure it was less than an hour later that I found a set of stairs carved along a wall. I moved down, spreading out and touching everything until I felt it: a torch set along the walls, with flint held in a little alcove within the wall.

I got into my human form and lit the torch, starting a more sedate walk through the much larger tunnels beneath the castle. I still didn’t have a good sense of this place, but I’d been lucky and caught a child spying on me. Through them and keeping my breaker form going as long as I could, I’d been able to get into part of the castle reserved for the king and his important people.

Last night I’d tried to go back there on my own and I’d ended up  _so_ lost. Tonight I was hoping I’d have better luck.

My eyes were on the roof as I walked, watching scratches I’d carved to give me a sense of where I was going, hidden so that only people who knew they were there could find them. I moved through tunnels of different lengths, had to climb up and down different sections but I finally reached a place I knew led into the castle.

I switched into my breaker form and moved through a small space, coming out on the other side amongst low flames. My walk was slower, now, paying more attention to noises or people speaking. The castle was so big that I had no idea where I was going, but I had the vague idea of a plan and I was willing to follow that.

I found guards in grey colours, wolves at their breasts, the colours of house Stark. I followed them, sometimes hanging back so I didn’t exhaust my breaker form. The path they took was long, but it eventually lead to the Tower of the Hand.

There I left them and I moved through place in my breaker form, getting a sense of the rooms and the people within them. There were a few guards awake, most muttering about shift changes, but many of them were asleep. I moved to the Hand’s chamber and found Eddard Stark awake at his table, a candle lit and a large book sitting in front of him. He had a hard frown as he looked down at the book.

I searched the room for any peepholes and I moved through when I found it. There was no one there and I turned human again, taking a seat in the darkness and waiting for the man to sleep.

Hours must have passed and I was started to nod off when I heard movement. I broke and surged into the room, filling the space with myself.

Eddard let in a cloaked man, his back bent and the ripe smell of wine wafting off of him.

“Lord Varys,” said Eddard, his expression twisted. The man stood straight, pulling back his hood as the door closed behind him. “Your ability to pass through my guards unmolested doesn't cease to disconcert me.”

“This castle holds many a secret, Lord Hand,” said Varys, his voice softer than when I’d heard it during the party, and his hand movements reserved. “And it is my duty as Master of Whispers to know them all.”

“And what news do you bring me this night?” he asked.

“It has finally reached the ears of my little birds the answer of our young gods,” said Varys.

“I’m surprised it has taken you this long,” said Eddard.

“It seems they have quite the talent in hiding what they say,” said Varys. “Amongst other methods, they speak a language I haven’t heard through all my travels. They call it  _Spanish._ Not all of them can speak it, but they’re teaching the godling Barden and Ser Gerrard.”

“Ser Gerrard,” said Eddard. “He’s one of Lord Blackwood’s men.”

“Yes, Lord Hand, though I wouldn’t trust him to give you information that they haven’t approved. My little birds sing that he’s loyal to them.”

“As any knight should,” Eddard muttered.

“Though it does complicated things for us, it is worth admitting, my lord,” said Varys.

“You had news,” said Eddard. “Of the ward they will leave us.”

“They’ll leave Alex, or as you might know him, Wanton,” said Varys. “He’s the one who possesses the magic to turn invisible.”

“Is that all we know about his magic?” Eddard asked.

“That’s all they’ve shown us,” said Varys. “But he’s far stronger than that. My birds at Oldstones sing of an invisible hand lifting boulders and breaking them. He might be stronger than the goddesses Grace and Cuff.”

“The same magic we’ve seen from Barden,” said Eddard. “He possesses the magic to make his arms disappear, yet he’s still able to touch things.”

“As I’m to understand it. Barden was gifted his magic by Wanton. They say they’re relatives in some fashion. This is a lie, of course. Word I’ve heard from Fairmarket surrounding the events that brought Barden to the attention of others does not make it seem they knew he would have his magic.”

“What do you think the truth is, Lord Varys?” asked Eddard. “From all that you’ve heard, you must have an idea.”

“I make a point of keeping a wide berth from magic, my lord,” said Varys. “I would suggest you to do the same. It can be entrancing, all of that power, but it often asks a price in return and almost always that price is terrible.”

Eddard nodded. “I’ve heard your warning, my lord,” he said.

“I should leave you,” said Varys. “There are other duties for which I must attend.”

“Of course,” said Eddard. “I wish you a good night.”

“To you as well, my lord,” said Vary, his voice taking on a gruffer edge, his back bending and his hood coming up. I followed him as the door opened, surging up into the rafters and going into my human form for a little break. I waited until he was down the hall before I switched to my breaker form again and followed him.

Varys moved like a ghost through the castle, quiet footsteps and with a keen awareness of everything around him. He would stop when he heard people, moving into niches and staying still as they passed, he would moved into secret rooms, move through tunnels and come out at different sections of the castle. All through it, I had to time myself, get some time out of my breaker state so I wouldn’t be hit by the exhaustion.

Varys stopped in front of a door, having moved past knights in cold and crimson armour, with lions etched into them. He knocked and after a moment the door opened.

“Varys,” said Cersei Baratheon. “Skulking as usual.”

“It is when I’m skulking that I’m most useful, Your Grace,” Varys said in whisper. “I have news. If you would allow me inside—”

“The night is late,” said Cersei. “Tell me this news and let’s be done with it.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” Vary said with a small bow. “The Lord Hand has talked to the young gods, requesting that one in their number become a ward.”

Cersei stood taller. “Have they agreed to this?” she said. Varys nodded. “Who? I’m hoping it’s the fair-haired girl. She seems unlike the others, she has affection for my Myrcella.”

“And the Lord Hand’s Sansa,” Varys added.

“A dullard, that one,” said Cersei. She glanced back and then opened her door wider. “Come. I have some wine out, we’ll drink while we talk.”

“You honour me, Your Grace,” said Varys and he walked in.

I followed after him, stretching out and getting a greater sense of everything around me. I was careful about what I touched, making sure I didn’t move anything for them to spot me.

They found a room, with Cersei pouring some wine.

“Who will the ward be?” she asked after a sip of her wine.

“Wanton,” said Varys.

“The sword swallower.”

It was a good thing my emotions were dulled in this form because I felt the urge to lash out. I couldn’t, because that was more trouble than it was worth and it would be something I had to get used to. People would say shit, they’d be underhanded and they’d be derisive. But part of what I wanted to do was brute force my way into acceptance.

“Yes, him,” said Varys.

“He’ll be in Renly’s corner,” Cersei muttered. “He seems to attract his kind like flies to honey.”

“A boon for him in this regard,” said Varys. “No greater connection exists than commonality, Your Grace. They are the same in that they are different, which may make it easier to work with each other.”

“What about the other one?” she asked. “The one Robert seems to like.”

“Romp, Your Grace,” he said.

“Yes. Her. He told Joff that he is to try and court her.”

“Oh, how sad it will be for Sansa to find out that she will no longer be queen,” said Varys, managing to inject sympathy into his voice.

“Ned Stark’s smart enough to know how important this will be,” said Cersei. “The tears of a naive little girl will mean nothing. What of her, this Romp? Certainly  _she_ should be a ward.”

“I doubt they’d be willing to leave her here,” said Varys, “nor do I think  _we_ should be comfortable with her left to her own devices. The girl has no decorum and with how…different their culture is, she might not be like the others and stay quiet if she sees anything that displeases her.”

“You’re quite right,” said Cersei, sitting back. “Tell me, what do Renly and Loras whisper as they roll around in their sheets?”

“A great many things, Your Grace,” said Varys. “But more than anything, they whisper of a Tyrell marrying into the crown.”

“What is his magic, this Wanton?” Cersei asked.

“Invisibility and the ability lift great objects,” said Varys.

“If he can become invisible, then he very likely might be here,” said Cersei.

“It is a worry I have constantly,” said Varys. “I find myself looking over my shoulder and am discomforted when I see nothing.”

Cersei smiled. “He would make quite the Master of Whispers, then, wouldn’t he?” she asked. Varys stopped, his eyes wide. “I jest, Varys,” she said. “I did not think they took your humour as well when they cut you.”

Varys smiled but there was a dark look in his eyes.

“I should be going, Your Grace,” said Varys. “The night is still young.”

“Of course,” said Cersei.

“Enjoy the rest of your night,” Varys said as he walked out. “These rooms can get quite cold. Which is why many a lord and lady prefer the heat from a warm body to tide the night.”

Cersei froze. Varys didn’t stop as he left.

I followed after him.

He walked and walked and then stopped.

“I know you’re there,” he said, “and I think it’s time we spoke.”

My mind stopped for a few seconds and I focused on feeling out for anyone else hiding in the shadows. There was no one and nothing, no animal save rats and cats. I waited and he waited, after a good few minutes, he let out a breath of relief and continued forward.

Finally he went to his room where he promptly went to bed.

There were places on the floors that were hollow, but none that could offer me the same places to spy that were in our rooms. I went outside to go into my human form, waiting in the rafters enough to catch my breath and go back and keep an eye on him.

For a long time he did nothing, but on my fifth return, I found that he’d disappeared. Slippery fucker.

⸎

“I’m staying in King’s Landing after the tourney,” I said. The words were unprompted, a bit too loud and they cut through morning conversations. This was maybe not the best way to go through with this, but Kathy and I had weaselled out so much that maybe it was better to say something here than to surprise them in the future.

 _But in retrospect this was not the best place,_ I thought as my eyes ran past our servants. I was always careful to check for any spies listening through walls before we talked about something sensitive, and yet Varys had still been able to hear it. That meant there was a spy in the people we’d picked up, which wasn’t so surprising because every day it felt like we invited someone new to serve us.

“What?” said Olive. “Why?”

“Eddard Stark asked for us to leave a ward,” said Kathy.

“Did he ask or did he  _ask,”_ said Olive. “Because—”

 _“Careful,”_ said Kathy.  _“We should remember who’s around us.”_

“Everyone scatter,” said Olive. “We have things to talk about.”

People stood at once.

“No,” said Kathy. “We’re eating breakfast first and then  _we’ll_ talk elsewhere. We won’t imposition anyone.”

 _Yeah,_ I thought.  _This was a really bad time to spring things._

People sat again, but there was an uncomfortable air as they ate, with people looking between us and no conversations restarting. I quickly ate my spread and was the first to finish. Olive didn’t even touch her food, when I was done she stood, moving up to the solar with me. The others followed a few minutes later, Merwyn staying behind to sort out duties with our other guards while Gerard came along with us.

I broke, spreading out and getting a sense of everything, looking out for any eyes or ears we didn’t want. I found someone outside, in an alcove beneath a window where he might be able to hear us if he tried very hard. I settled into my human form outside behind him and he noticed me immediately.

“My lord, I—”

I held up a hand and he stopped. “Follow me,” I said and turned, starting to walk away. I heard footsteps and broke, spreading out and feeling him as he moved. It was tricky to interact with people directly, the Manton Effect meant I had to be  _very_ focused when I tried to move people, putting more force than I usually needed to move simple things. With how tired I felt, physically and now emotionally, I didn’t want to take chances.

I found a rock and moved it to hit his foot mid-stride. He tripped and fell, holding his arms out and stopping himself from falling face first. He turned around and looked up to see a cloud of rocks floating in the air before they fell. He screamed and scrambled back, and I allowed time for him to move before each rock slammed in the space between his legs, breaking apart into dust.

I felt as people rushed into my form, swords pulled out. I grabbed them from their grasp and had them fly into the air, dropping down and stopping just over the man.  He didn’t move, his eyes closed and his breathing hard.

“Take him,” said Merwyn and when the others didn’t move, Merwyn came first. He went for his sword. I let go as he took it. The other knights soon followed, taking their swords.

I became human again. “Find a place to hold him,” I said. “Watch that he doesn’t hurt himself and that he doesn’t get hurt.”

“Of course, my lord,” said Merwyn.

I broke again and flowed up to the solar. I smiled as I got into my human form. “All good,” I said. “I found a spy.”

“Varys?” said Kathy.

I shrugged. “Might be, he’s the Master of Whispers,” I said, wiggling my fingers at the title.

“Can we be serious?” said Olive. “You’re staying here?”

“It makes the most sense,” I said. “If shit happens, I’m the hardest to hurt.”

“But you shouldn’t  _be_ staying her in the first place,” said Olive. “Fuck all this politics shit. Let’s get out of here and—”

“Let’s remember the worst case scenario,” said Kathy.

Olive frowned, crossing her arms. She let out a breath in a huff.

“Even with… _that,”_ said Ava. “This doesn’t feel like a good idea. We can’t just leave you here, Alex.”

“You’re not leaving me here,” I said. “I’m  _choosing_ to stay.”

“Yeah, well, I’m choosing to fuckin’ stay too,” said Olive. “If that’s a choice we can suddenly make. I mean, this place is better than Oldstones and we don’t go hungry every few weeks because we didn’t plan right.”

Kathy sighed. “You  _know_ we can’t do that,” she said. “Taylor is important because she gets us money; Everett is important because he gets us home; but  _you’re_ important because you’re our magic school bus. Taylor and Everett can’t travel all that much, but  _you_ can’t stay in one place. It just doesn’t work.”

 _“And if you stay here you’ll have to marry the pompous prick, Joffrey,”_ I said with a small smile.

“Maybe I like being princess,” she muttered. “And the whole queen thing would be good for my future.”

Ava shook her head.  _“Myrcella’s scared of him,”_ she said.  _“She hasn’t said anything, but I see it. I don’t think marrying him would be a good idea.”_

Olive let out another breath. “We should threaten them again,” she said, this time looking at Kathy. “Make sure they understand that if anything,  _anything,_ happens to Whispy, then we’ll show them the shit.”

“That wouldn’t be good, my lady,” said Gerrard. “That the first threat went unanswered was a great boon. But if you were to make it a regular thing…”

Kathy frowned before she nodded. “Ava, you’ll join the melee,” she said. “It’s an all-out brawl and you should win it. You’ll have to be showy about it.”

“That might be a better way,” said Gerard. He sighed. “I’d thought I might enter. I suppose I could enter the archery competition.”

“I’ll talk to the Eddard Stark,” Kathy continued. “Get him to give us some space for a brawl. Barden and one of Olivia’s metal men.”

Barden stood straight. “I’ll be participating in the tourney?” he said, his voice rising an octave.

“You’ll do great Barden,” said Ava. “I’ve been watching you train. If you were in our world, you would have gone on a few missions already.”

Barden smiled, standing taller.

“But don’t expect me to take it easy on you,” said Olive, with her arms still crossed. She sighed. “Can’t one of you guys stay with him? I mean there’s safety in numbers, right? I get it, I’m important, but what about you,” she said to Kathy, “what about Ava?”

They both said nothing.

“No,” I said. “I’m fine on my own.”

_I’m really not. If Raymancer was here then maybe he would have stayed with me. But you guys…you’re too young for this. You shouldn’t be in this position and it won’t feel good if I force you to do this._

“You won’t be on your own,” said Gerrard. “Merwyn would be happy to stay with you.”

Olive grinned but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Right. With you two here, you two can smooch up a storm,” she said. My eyes flicked over to Gerrard, seeing as he sat straighter, his expression twisted and his eyes darted to and fro without settling. Barden was better, with everything just sliding over him without a change in expression.

 _Normalise,_ I thought,  _part of that is getting people used to the idea. Even if it’s uncomfortable to be airing your business in front of everyone._

I let out a short laugh. “Don’t think Merwyn’s ready for that just yet,” I said. “Maybe some light hand-holding.”

“Is this done?” said Barden. “I would like to go to my training.”

“Yeah, it is,” said Kathy.

“I need to get some sleep,” I said. “Kathy. Can we talk after?”

She nodded. I started to leave for my room when Ava stopped me, her eyes were wide and a little puffy.

“I’m sorry,” she said and stopped, swallowing. “I…I know I should stay, but—”

“Ava,” I said. “I’m sorry if this is patronising, but you’re a kid. No one expects you to give your life up like this.”

“But  _you_ are,” she said. “And you’re only two years older than me. I just…feel like I’m not pulling my weight sometimes, you know? With everything? It feels like…” She shrugged. “Everyone else is strong, that they’re doing stuff and I’m not.”

“All of us feel weak,” I said.

“But you push past it,” she said, irritation in her voice. “You do things you’re uncomfortable with to make things better. But all of this time I haven’t really done anything. Even Olive’s better than me and she’s younger.”

“You can’t judge yourself by other people,” I said and that didn’t feel like good advice, but I was still tired from last night and every waking second was time that a forming headache got stronger. “Look…I made peace with it, okay? I’m trying make acceptance of sexuality a  _thing_ and this is the best place for that. I’ll keep myself busy and I’ll be working to make this shitty place better for others.”

Ava sighed and nodded. “I should get some training done before Gerrard has other things to do,” she said.

⸎

“You seem…out of sorts, my lord,” said Merwyn.

“I’m just tired,” I said with a shrug. I was on horseback, Merwyn riding beside me. “Has Gerard told you, yet? I’ll be staying in King’s Landing after the tourney.”

Merwyn turned forward, eyes roving over the people on the road, passing over rooftops. He rode his horse with an easy confidence, wearing fine clothes that weren’t too gaudy, and his sword dangling at his side.

“He has,” said Merwyn. “He…has mentioned that I should stay with you. It would be expected of me.”

“Is that what you want?” I asked, giving him a glance. I couldn’t spend too much time looking to the side or I’d tug on the reins and the horse would turn. If I did that too quickly, there was the non-zero chance that I could fall.

“My desire is to serve Lord Blackwell,” he said and I sighed. Back to  _this._ It was annoying the relationship knights had to their lords, how much they lost their autonomy and sense of self all to serve some  _guy._ “He would expect that I stay, for the betterment of the relationship between the gods at Oldstones and Raventree Hall.”

I stayed quiet for a bit, letting King’s Landing sink in. The cobblestone street we moved along, the tall buildings starting at either side of us, with tight alleys moving through buildings. There were manors with high walls and heavy doors, some closed but most open. So close to Aegon’s High Hill, there was the sense that this part of the city was for the affluent, with many of the people walking the streets, servants or not, dressed in fine clothes.

“Where do you see yourself in ten years, Merwyn?” I asked. “What are your ambitions? Your goals?”

I gave him a glance when he didn’t answer, felt as my body started to shift and pulled against the reins. My horse’s pace started to pick up.

“Whoa,” I said and the horse started to slow again.

“I see myself with a small holdfast, my lord,” he said. “I have a wife—” I glanced his way again, “—and sons, perhaps a few daughters. It is nothing large, just so my children have something to build on.”

“A wife?” I said. “I thought…You said…”

Merwyn looked forward, his jaw clenched. “My family’s name must continue and for that, I’m to have a wife.”

“Can you do that?” I asked. “Live a lie like that?”

He frowned. “It will not be a lie,” he said. “I will learn to love my wife and I will certainly love my children. I will be loyal to her. That is all.”

_Maybe I didn’t really think this through._

All of me rebelled against the thought, so much so that him even thinking about him living like that made me uncomfortable. I thought back to when I’d still been in the closet, when I’d spent time in bed thinking about the future and having a sinking feeling that I’d have to marry a woman I didn’t love. I thought to the time I’d tried having a girlfriend and how much of a  _chore_ everything had been.

I didn’t want that for Merwyn, for  _anyone,_ but what was I supposed to do when he wanted that for himself?

“Do you think a lot of people feel like you?” I asked.

“I can’t speak to the thoughts of others,” he said.

“But you can tell me from your experience,” I said. “If you want to,” I added, because he could very well take it as an order and I didn’t want that.

“I have…bedded men that have seen their futures with other men,” he said, his voice lower and his tone stilted. “There are some who have loved me. I have never had similar feelings toward them.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “This is going to sound clinical, and maybe you won’t be able to answer it, but I sort of what to know what you think. Do you think you’ve never felt that way because of  _you_ or is it because of what everyone will think if you have a family but it’s with another man?”

Merwyn didn’t say anything.

“With all of this you don’t have to answer,” I said. “If you don’t want to. I’m just…trying to frame things.”

“Why? If I might ask.”

“Things were shit for people like us were I came from,” I said and shrugged. “People could be beaten to death or they could feel a pressure so great that life didn’t feel worth living anymore.” I shrugged again. “I have political power here and I can’t just let the same thing happen, you know? You’re…archaic to us. Things that are happening now are things that trend towards what I know and I want to mess that up, make things better now instead of them having to be fixed in the future.”

“Commendable,” said Merwyn, “but is it necessary?”

I gave him a look.

“There’s a tale I was told by my Nan,” said Merwyn. “Of Jon the Sheep-herd. Jon was a young man who’d been a sheep herd for most of his life, tending the stock of most of his village. He was a good sheep-herd, dutiful and crafty, with a dog at his side he used to make the job easier.

“During his years, a famine struck and the sheep he herded died. He lost his work and he had to move. From village to village he moved, but in each he didn’t stay because a sheep-herd they had and they wouldn’t pay for another. So dire was his need for work, that he travelled over the sea to a small island, where he found a people whose sheep-herd had only recently passed.

“A boon for him because it meant he could work. But Jon wasn’t happy, for he learnt that these people didn’t corral their sheep in the night, that they let them wander.  _‘No,’_ he said to them.  _‘They should be corralled, for there are dangers in the night. There are wolves and thieves and all a manner of things.’_

 _“‘But there are no wolves,’_ the people said back.  _‘There are no thieves and any who would seek to steal would have to cross the ocean to get here. We have long lived without corralling our sheep and nothing has happened.’_

“Jon felt he knew better. These were simple folk, too naive to the workings of the world. So he worked, felling trees to build the corral until he felled a sacred tree. A tree that had long been the home of a nest of snarks.”

“I think I’m starting to get it,” I muttered. “I’m fixing a problem that doesn’t exist and that might lead to other problems.”

Merwyn didn’t say anything.

I sighed. “I can go back into the closest,” I said. He gave me a look. “I can’t go to living a lie,” I explained. “I struggled with  _this,_ being me and I’m not going to backtrack.”

“You’re a god,” said Merwyn. “That’s within your power.”

“There you go making me feel selfish,” I muttered. “Can we head back?”

“Of course, my lord,” he said.

We trekked back, into the castle and into our section. There were people out and I counted ten more new faces in the crowd going through their training. A knight from the Riverlands, whose name I didn’t remember overlooked them, much as a teacher might, but not giving any advice.

A guy my age ran to us as we arrived.

“My lord, ser knight,” he said. “Lady Grace told me to tell you she wants to meet when you first return.”

“Okay,” I said. “You mind taking the horse.”

“Of course, my lord,” the guy said. I went in my breaker state and moved forward, climbing up into a window. I found Kathy in the study with Barden, with the former singing ABCs to the latter.

I collected myself and Kathy stopped, standing straighter.

“Fuck, Al,” Kathy said.

“Get a room,” I said, grinning.

“We have a room?” said Barden. “Or is this something else I’m missing?”

“Yeah,” said Kathy, glaring at me.

“You wanted to see me?” I said.

“Yeah. Already talked to everyone else, but we’ve got another plan for the tourney. Lord Baelish came over and he had a good idea for a round of the tourney. Whoever wants to, they can pay for the opportunity to challenge us. If we lose, then we give the winner a cash prize that Lord Baelish is offering to fork over for us. We get to keep sixty percent of the total fees.”

“Everyone else agree?” I asked.

Kathy nodded. “It’s money,” she said. “Which will be good for us. I want to buy some young blacksmiths from their teachers, maybe some other tools that Everett didn’t have. Paper because it’s  _way_ cheaper here. This will help out.”

I nodded. “I’m up for it,” I said. “Was that all?”

She sighed, shifting away from Barden. “Our spy,” she said. “We questioned him and he said he works for Varys. Thing is, I don’t believe him. It was too easy, too…” She shrugged. “It looked amateurish.”

 _“Might be someone else,”_ I said.  _“Someone that wants to mess up our relationship with Varys.”_

 _“A relationship we don’t have,”_ said Kathy.  _“I’m not sure what to do about this,”_ she said.  _“It’s not how I think, y’know? But if you’ll be here and I just want you to know what you’ll be working with.”_

“Yeah,” I said with a sigh.  _“Maybe I’ll pick something up when I go out tonight.”_

“Sure,” said Kathy.

“So what did you do to him?” I asked. “After he gave you that?”

“He’s still in our jail cell,” she said. “Being watched. I haven’t told anyone, but Lord Baelish alluded to already knowing. I don’t want him sent into the Red Keep’s dungeons because that could be a repeat of the Fairmarket situation.”

I nodded.

 _These are all things I’ll be forced to deal with when you leave,_ I thought as I left the study, going down for lunch.

This wasn’t something I’d ever wanted, and indeed it had never felt like I’d ever get it. Everett and I were so close in age that we would have graduated the Wards around the same time, which meant leadership would have moved from him to Kathy without ever touching me.

Having to think about all these things still felt foreign, with me wanting to shrug it off to someone else.

 _Can’t be like that,_ I thought.  _You’re the one that chose this—even if there wasn’t really a choice—so you’ve gotta make sure you don’t screw up._

I ate lunch alone, asked that one of the servants go get us some paper, ink and some quills, all of which would go up to my room. It took longer than I thought it would, time I spent doing some exercises and watching some of the people that were still training on the yard, different people than the ones I’d seen when I’d been coming in.

 _First thing a leader would do is probably know what the fuck is going on,_ the thought came.

I found Gerrard. “Lord Renly was gracious enough to gift us with some of his men,” said Gerrard. “His action was call for the other lords and ladies to do the same. We have over twenties knights and squires from three lordly families come to us to help bolster our numbers. We can’t house them all, so we’ve been doing so by skill.”

“You think people know that I’ll be staying?” I asked.

“Yes, my lord,” he said. “I don’t see many in this lot heading further north into the Riverlands.”

I nodded, running my fingers through my beard.

 _Now you know,_ I thought,  _so now what?_

It was easy in concept but harder in practice. I wanted to make things better…which I wasn’t even really sure about, right now. Merwyn, as delicately as he could, had told me that maybe I was fixing a problem than didn’t exist and maybe that was valid. As much as this world was technology behind our earth it wasn’t  _our_ history. Things here could be progressive in some avenues while it lagged behind in others, and in trying to be  _out,_ I could lead to problems that could make things worse.

But it also wasn’t hard to note that Merwyn was still  _hiding_ who he was, that he was uncomfortable sleeping with other man and it seemed as though all of him wanted to just  _forget_. Even if it wasn’t the same as Earth Bet, there was still something there, something that needed to be worked on.

_You’re getting distracted, looking at everything and not focusing on the singular._

I took a breath, centring myself and trying to think things through.

I wanted to do all of that, sure, but that didn’t help me in dealing with King’s Landing, the type of personalities that lived here and the sort of duplicity I’d seen from Varys alone. It also didn’t help me in keeping this place running.

“Gerrard,” I said. “Can you help me find someone who’ll help me run our little section of the castle? Because I don’t have the smallest idea how.”

“If I may offer advice, my lord,” he said.

“Sure,” I said with a shrug.

“I think you should speak to the others who call the Red Keep home,” he said. “I’ve noticed it in you all, but you don’t seem to put much stock in building relationships. You’ll  _need_ to have good relationships if you’re to have any success with your endeavours. This would be a good place towards that.”

I nodded.

“And Lord Renly has already opened a way to start conversation,” he said. “Perhaps you should invite him to sup with you this evening.”

I nodded again. “I’ll write him the letter,” I said. “Flex my calligraphy skills.”

“You dictate more than you write in your world?” said Gerrard.

“Text more than anything,” I said. “Which is complicated to explain. But essentially there are these blocks—”

“Lady Weaver once mentioned them,” said Gerrard. “Cell phones?”

“Yeah. Them. Don’t have to write much when you have them,” I said. “That or computers. Which are cell phones except more powerful and bigger.”

“I have a hard enough time imagining cell phones that a com-pu-ter, I cannot,” he said.

“If we were back at Oldstones maybe Kirk would have been able to draw one,” I said. “I could try it too, but it’d just be a scrawl.”

“I’ll make the request when we return,” he said. “I should leave, Allard should know by now who we’ll have serving in our guard.”

“Give me the list, after?” I said.

“Of course, my lord.”

I went upstairs and did a few drafts of the letter. The spelling in this world was different to ours in small ways, but not enough that the meaning would be lost. There was the risk that the letter would be stolen along the way, which was why I asked Merwyn to be the one to give it to Lord Renly.

“…I know this is probably a step down to knightly duties,” I said. “But I  _really_ need it to be done.”

“I understand, my lord,” he said. “Shall I wear my armour as well? It might be better received.”

I shook my head. “I’m not sure if you’re being sarcastic or not,” I said.

“No, my lord,” he said, his voice even, almost bored.

I shrugged. “Whatever you want to do,” I said. We walked out together, he left to go into the castle while I went into the kitchen, asking the kitchen staff to prepare a meal for Renly and I in the solar this evening. Someone must have said something to Olive at some point, because I didn’t hear the end of it until it was dinner.

⸎

“…which is why I thought it would be a good idea to thank you in person,” I said, sitting on the other side of a long table, with food spread out between us. Renly had a goblet filled with wine and he was nursing his second glass. I hadn’t had any because even if I  _could,_ it didn’t mean I should.

That and doing push ups with one arm was hard.

He smiled and it was a charming smile. Renly was a handsome man, with dark hair that fell to his shoulders, broad shouldered and with the sort of chest that looked like he was holding his breath; and, a man after my own heart, he had a good sense of style in his green and gold coloured clothes, with vine-like etchings that caught the light.

“No trouble at all,” he said, that smile bleeding into his words.

 _Don’t fucking go and have crushes,_ I told myself.

“When I’d heard you were to stay in King’s Landing, the first thought I had was of your safety. Pardon my saying so, but you really are understaffed.”

“I wasn’t supposed to stay long,” I said with a shrug. “But you know what they say. Men plan and god laughs.”

“Is that said?” he said.

“Guess it’s a thing from my world,” I said.

“Your world of America,” he said. At my raised brow he said, “I happened upon Lady Cuff at the sept a day ago. We talked for a moment and she told me a little of your world.”

“There must have been a misunderstanding,” I said. “America’s where we’re from. It’s a country, much like Westerosi. The world as a whole we call Earth Bet.”

“Fascinating,” he said. “And how do you kingdoms compare to ours? I’ve heard that we’re barbarians in comparison.”

“Not barbarians,” I said, shifting a little. “Just different. On a technology level, you’re hundreds of years behind. But a measure of a people isn’t their technological level, it’s how they treat each other.”

“And you’ve deemed that we treat each other well?” he said.

I took a moment, taking a sip of my juice. “I’m not sure, really,” I said with a shrug. “But thankfully this isn’t my world and I’m not getting involved.”

Renly snorted, sitting and focusing on his food. He cut at a piece of meat on his plate, chewed it and swallowed before he continued.

“You’ll have to get better at lying if you’re to have any success in King’s Landing,” he said.

“Am I?” I said, suddenly tensed.

He nodded. “From all I’ve heard and from all I’ve seen, yours aren’t a people who would sit back and let injustices happen. Why, I heard the tale of the bandits who were attacking Fairmarket, and how Lady Grace swooped in to fell them in a single night.”

“Those were criminals,” I said. “It was better for everyone if they were out of the picture.”

“Picture?” he said.

“Portrait, I guess,” I said. “If they were out of the way.”

“And yet you saved these very bandits from being executed,” he said. “Chose to forgo trial by combat to have them sent to the Wall.”

I shrugged again. “We place a higher value on life,” I said. “Even the life of people who’ve done bad things.”

“And I see that,” he said. “Which is why I find it hard to believe that you would, as you say,  _not getting involved.”_

I sighed. “I’m hoping…to open the route to tolerance,” I said. “If that makes sense.”

Renly frowned, shaking his head.

“I’m gay,” I said. “Which means I’m hardwired to love men.” Renly shifted, his body language  _screaming_ uncomfortable. “When I look into the future, I see myself marrying a man, maybe having kids, the whole shebang.”

Renly swallowed, taking a sip of his wine to wash down the meat.

“And…I grew up in a place where that was looked down on. I guess…part of what I want is making sure that that never happens in this world. That anyone can love who they want without worry of some religion coming around and saying they’re bad people.”

“You’ll…” He cleared his throat. “You’ll find that the Faith of the Seven has no such restrictions,” he said. “The same with the Red God, but I don’t have a deeper understanding of their practises. The Red Priest, Thoros of Myr, spends more of his time drinking than espousing the virtues of his god.”

“So I’m trying to fix something that doesn’t need fixing?” I said. “I had someone tell me that. Today, even.”

“Marriage between two men would mean the death of the line,” said Renly. “No religion might restrict…relations between two men, but the need to continue your house would.”

“I mean there are ways around that,” I said with a shrug. “A surrogate mother who’ll have the child then they have two fathers. Or adoption, though I feel like you don’t have that here.”

“No, we don’t,” he said.

“Taking an orphan child as your own,” I said.

“That still wouldn’t continue the line,” he said. “The child might have your name if you decree it, but they wouldn’t have your  _blood.”_

I nodded. “I think I’m starting to get it,” I said. “It’s not as clear cut, it’s not a religion thing, but a values thing. What you just said, the kid wouldn’t have your blood. Blood isn’t important to me because there’s nothing special about it. A child that I raised would be my child because they’d be a mirror of me. A child with my blood, raised by someone else, they’d be a mirror of whoever raised them even if they have my blood.”

“What effect does this have on your plans, then?” he said.

“I’m not sure, yet,” I said. “I need perspective. I need to know that a problem does exist, not only for the upper echelons, but for regular people. I think that, with the influence I have, if the common folk see that I’m accepted here, then they might be more willing to accept the people like me around them.”

“I wish you good luck on that endeavour,” he said. “The gods know that many will not understand this. So much of the men in this keep measure their worth through the people they kill and the women they bed. For you to brazenly disregard what gives them worth…”

“I might be disturbing a snarks’ nest,” I said and nodded. “There can’t be change without upheaval.”

“Quite right,” he said. “The tourney starts tomorrow. I bid you to come sit with me as we watch the matches.”

“Sure,” I said.

⸎

 _“Okay,”_ said Kathy as we rode down the Hook on horses.

There were people around, guards who were keeping Princes Joffrey, Tommen and Princess Myrcella safe. They’d chosen to ride on cows with us instead of taking horses. They were up front with Olive and Ava, while I was near the back with Kathy. Gerrard, Merwyn, Allard and another knight was sticking close to serve as our guard.

_“If you’re going to keep scouting at night. You need to make sure you’re getting enough sleep because you’re not looking too good right now.”_

“I’m fine,” I said. “How did plans go with Lord Baelish? Saw him leaving as I was getting up.”

“Everything’s set up,” she said. “Even with the short notice, we’ve got over twenty people who’ve already paid to challenge us, they’ll be spread out over today and tomorrow. Baelish put it at fifty silver stags, so rough estimate that’s…a thousand stags which is about four dragons and some stags.”

“How much does he get again?” I asked.

“Forty percent,” she said.

“Should have negotiated lower,” I said.

“Ally building,” she said.

“Point,” I said and sighed. “I think that’s going to be the hardest part of this. Spending all of my time talking to people.”

We exited the Hook into Muddy Way, where we’d keep along the road until we reached River Row. From there it would be a straight path to the King’s Gate.

“You know who we’re going to be fighting against?” I asked.

“I know that Ser Barristan Selmy’s going to be fighting,” she said. “He’s one of those knights in white armour. As well as Ser Jamie Lannister, the Queen’s brother.”

“I’m hoping no one wants to fight me,” I said. “So maybe I can nod off as all of this is happening.”

“They might be afraid of the whole invisible thing,” said Kathy and she shrugged. “I feel like they’ll mostly be after me or Ava. We’re girls and with the whole woman-can’t-be-fighters thing going on, we’ll look like easy targets.”

I snorted. “Give them hell?” I said

“I have to,” she said. “See that girl over there?”

“Arya Stark,” I said. I’d spent a good while before the dinner with Renly trying to memorise the people that were important and the map of the city. It also helped that she’d been around one day and had asked Kathy to join her dancing lessons, memorable when others were nervous when they talked to us.

“Yeah. She wants to be a warrior,” she said. “I want to show her that it’s possible.”

“I get that,” I said.

“Yeah.”

“Did I tell you that I’ll be sitting with Renly? He asked.”

“Oh,” she said. “That’s good. He in with what you’ll be trying to do?”

“I think he might be,” I said. “He gave me pointers, the type of things I’ll have to look for, and I think he’s offering to be a friend even though what I’m doing might cause rifts. I appreciate that.”

Kathy gave me a look.

“What,” I said. I was  _exceedingly_ careful as I rubbed my face. “Got something on my face?”

“I mean that beard, for one,” Kathy muttered.

“Shut up,” I said. “This beard is awesome.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

We both turned as we spotted a figure at our periphery.

“My lady,” he said. “My lord.”

“A good day, Lord Eddard,” said Kathy.

I gave Kathy a look.  _Really laying it on thick with the old-timey speak,_ I thought at her.

She glared at me.

“Hello. My lord.”

“I’ve been informed that you’re to join the tourney,” he said. “I hadn’t thought that you would.”

“You’ve only now found out?” said Kathy. “I thought Lord Baelish would tell you. He was the one planning the entire thing.”

“Lord Baelish has a queer sense of humour,” said Eddard. “I wondered if you’d had any time to consider the matter of which we spoke.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll be staying. I’ll be the king’s ward until we’ve found our way back home.”

Eddard let out a breath, his expression almost going into a smile. “That is good news,” he said. “One that Robert will be glad to hear.”

“We’ll do all we can to make sure that our appearance on this world doesn’t mess up how you run things,” I said. “If that means I stay here, then that’s all good. My lord.”

“Glad tidings indeed,” he said. “I’ve heard it said you’ll sit beside Lord Renly during the tourney.”

“Yes,” I said.

“Would you like to sit beside me, my Lady Grace,” he said. “So we might discuss quick business of the relations between the crown and Oldstones.”

“Of course, my lord,” said Kathy.

Conversation was light from that point on, mostly trending towards business and with how tired I was I wandered away. We made our way down River Row until we reached the King’s Gate and from there we reached the pavilions spread out further than I could see.

I found the main tent and there I found Renly who sat close to Lord Baelish and Lord Varys.

“Lord Wanton,” said Baelish, a sly smile on him. “It’s been a while since we last spoke.”

“It honours us that you’ve graced us with your presence, my lord,” said Varys, his voice effeminate and soft. Devoid of the baritone I’d heard when he’d been speaking to Eddard Stark.

“The honour’s mine, my lords,” I said, putting on a smile.

“Come. Sit,” said Renly. “Our fighters are about to ride so we might see them.”

I found my place, looking around to get a sense of things. Men and women in extravagant dress sat around us, chattering excitedly. I spotted the King and Queen, sitting together, with the former downing a drink while the latter looked over everything with apathy; I spotted Eddard and Kathy sitting together, with the latter looking like she wanted to be anywhere else but there; Ava was smiling, dressed in boy clothes because she might be asked to quickly don her armour; Olive sat with the Prince Joffrey; and Barden with Gerrard, Merwyn and our other knights.

“An event you quite enjoyed when it was Prince Joffrey’s name-day,” said Baelish. “I’d thought you’d try your hand at being a warrior once again.”

Renly smiled. “Don’t fret, Petyr. I have a healthy sense of where I stand as a warrior. For today I’ll watch. It’ll be exciting to see who takes the joust.”

“Your former squire has quite the fighting prowess, my lord,” said Varys. “Perhaps he’ll take the tourney.”

“You forget Ser Jaimie or the Mountain Who Rides,” said Petyr. “I’d put my money on either of them than the Knight of Flowers.”

“I had thought my nephew’s name-day tourney would have shown you the folly of your words,” said Renly. “Losing your bet against my dear brother.”

“Once is luck, as they said,” said Lord Baelish.

The men came out, dressed in shiny armour with various designs, with even their horses armoured. They moved up and down in front of us, showing themselves off. I was starting to nod off when the first joust began and the visceral  _crack_ of wood against armour jolted me awake.

Renly served as commentary, telling me who was who and from which house they hailed from. A good few jousts passed before the first knight came forward, dressed in heavy armour, carrying a two handed sword.

“Ser Theo of House Frey wishes to challenge Lordling Barden Jarackson,” a man hollered, which had everyone breaking into a tizzy of conversation.

“Your boy looks nervous,” said Petyr.

I looked and I could see it, how Barden’s expression had shifted and how Gerrard was speaking to him more. All while Theo Frey looked calm and collected.

I took a breath. “Barden!” I said and people close to us started. He turned, finding me in the crowd. “Don’t hurt him too badly!”

Renly broke into laughter beside me. Whistling started behind us, higher up and when I turned I saw it came from Olive, with her fingers in her mouths, straining to make it loud. Joffrey, who sat beside her, was red faced, trying and failing to skirt back and away from her.

Barden had a broad grin on him as he walked forward to stand in front of Theo Frey. Barden was shorter than Theo Fray, dressed only in scale mail and carrying no weapons.

They both turned, bowed towards King Robert before they turned to each other. A horn blew and there was movement. Theo Fray stepping forward, his sword slashing up while Barden stepped back, throwing his arms.

Gasps came from the crowd as Barden’s arms disappeared, the sword stopping as it came down, then flying free of its wielder’s hands. Theo Fray, his expression hidden behind a helmet, quickly stepped back. Barden, I noticed, was breathing hard, not covered with sweat, but I could see he wasn’t taking well to  _this._ His eyes were wide and everything about him on-edge.

 _Go on the attack,_ I thought.  _You have powers and yours isn’t finicky like mine._

Barden shifted and Theo Fray was bowled over, struck by an invisible hand. Barden moved forward, the earth stirring as it was pulled up by his telekinesis, the rough frame of a hand being outlined before the earth was spat away. Theo Fray tried to get up and he was bowled over again, the sound of metal warping filling the air.

Theo Fray’s helmet was wrenched off his head, red splashing through the air. I disappeared, surging forward through the crowd. I was blind, unsure if Barden had gone further, if Theo Fray was still okay, with only the mutterings of the lords and ladies moving through my range.

Barden hit my range, his hands now fully formed, his breathing hard, more distance between him and Theo Fray.

I got back in my human form, standing beside Barden.

“God-father,” he said, a grin on him that seemed a little manic. Theo Fray lay on the ground, breathing hard with blood on his face, lines running down the middle.

“Hey,” I said, clapping his back. “Wind down? Breaths, deep in, slowly out.”

He took a breath, long and deep, then letting it out in a shuddering breath.

“Head back to Gerrard and the others?”

He nodded and walked off.

“You okay?” I said to Theo. His eyes were wide, one eye starting to fill with blood. Theo Fray swallowed and nodded. “Come, let’s get that looked at.”

I offered a hand and he looked at it for a moment before he took it. I helped him as he hobbled to a tent with healers. By the time I got back, the second round of the joust had began.

“You’ve got a soft heart, my lord,” said Varys.

“A soft heart has no place in King’s Landing,” Petyr continued. “It can be used against you. If I were to give you any advice, it would be to harden.”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to lose myself like that,” I said. “I’ll make do.”

“Commendable, my lord,” said Varys.

“Have care of Varys’ words, my lord,” said Renly, still with that charming smile. “Commendable, he says, while he means stupidity.”

“Would I be so duplicitous?” said Varys, sounding wounding.

“Yes,” Petyr and Renly said, before both shared a laugh.

“What do you guys do?” I asked. “I mean…I’ve been thinking about what I’ll  _do_ as I live here, and all I can think of is just socialising which…” I shrugged.

“Petyr here is the Master of Coin,” said Renly. “Which makes him the most powerful person here. He knows where all the money comes from and where all of it goes. As a great magician, he makes it appear, almost as if from thin air.”

“No, no, my lord,” said Petyr. “Lord Varys is the most powerful of us. The Master of Whispers, with little birds that sing at his ear giving him many a secret. Money can buy many things, but they can’t buy honour. Secrets, though, secrets can get you everything.”

“My lords do me a great honour,” said Varys. “But indeed, Lord Renly is the most powerful amongst us. For he can permit that which is forbidden. He can absolve a man even of the gods’ justice.”

“Long winded way of saying you’re the most powerful people in King’s Landing?” I said.

“Well, not the most,” said Petyr.

“For we all serve the King and the King’s Hand,” said Varys.

“All except the gods,” said Renly. “Perhaps you’re the most powerful people here.”

I didn’t say anything and we watched more matches. Another knight, this one dressed in heavy armour, carrying a large shield and a one-handed sword chose to challenge Olive.

She didn’t get up from her seat beside the Joffrey, instead one of her metal men, holding a larger shield and a larger sword, sauntered out from between the tents, coming to standing over the knight,  _looming_ over him.

“I’d thought she’d at least deign to grace us with her physical presence,” said Renly.

“The people want a show,” I said. “Romp is giving it to them.”

The match started, but my group didn’t watch the match so much as keep glancing to Olive and Joffrey. Both of them watched, but it seemed as though they were sharing light conversation. On the field, the knight was having trouble because Romp’s metal man didn’t fight how he was used to. The knight would feint and the metal man would lean into the attack, unwary of any damage.

Pretty quickly, the knight’s shield was knocked out of his grasp, then he was kicked in the chest and sent tumbling back. Before he could get up, the metal man rushed forward and kicked his swords out of his grip. The metal man put a foot on his chest, not allowing to the knight to get up until he yielded.

There was applause from the crowd, all of which Olive ignored.

I couldn’t help but chuckle, because I  _knew_ for sure that she wanted to gloat, that this sort of threat wasn’t something she believed in. But she was playing ball, showing them what they’d have to deal with if they hurt me, the type of power she could level their way.

 _Good kid,_ I thought.

The last of the day’s jousts started after Olive’s match, and the last match was Ser Loras Tyrell against Ser Robar Royce.

“You think your man will win?” said Petyr. “I’ve heard good things about Ser Robar.”

“Loras has done well through most of the day,” said Renly. “It wouldn’t do to lose faith in him now.”

“Is your faith so strong that you would be willing to wager ten stags?” said Petyr.

“Yes,” he said, without hesitation.

Petyr smiled and leaned back.

The match ended with Ser Robar on his back moaning, and Ser Loras moving around the circuit, waving at the crowd. He stopped in front of Sansa Stark, said something I couldn’t quite hear but had the girl turning beet red, before giving her a rose.

 _Right. That’s a thing,_ I thought, feeling shivers passing up and down my spine.

The last match between us and a challenger started, a hedge knight Renly didn’t know wearing armour that had seen better days, holding a wooden shield in one arm and a thin sword in the other. The man was on the short side, leanly built and with a heavily scarred face.

“The challenger, Olly of Bitterbridge, has chosen Lady Grace as his competitor.”

“That was the worst pick he could make,” I said.

“Oh?” said Renly. “Is Lady Cuff the strongest amongst you?”

“Strong is relative,” I said with a shrug. “But she and Cuff are pretty strong. He should have chosen Barden or something.”

“What of you?” said Varys said. “You must be feeling perturbed that you aren’t being challenged.”

I shrugged. “Don’t really mind.”

Grace found the floor, said something to the knight and he nodded, said something in return. Both turned towards the king, bowed then turned to each other. The horn blew.

The knight shifted into a stance and his armour became suffused with colour, the chips and dents, the rust, disappearing as it was filled in by a with honey yellow and a black trim; at his chest, an image began to draw itself: a stag with large horns, its front legs reared up for a kick.

Murmurs broke and I found myself sitting straighter.

⸎

Grace didn’t move, she was surprised yes, but it didn’t show. No doubt thanks to her thinker power kicking in. She stood in front of the man, both of them round about the same height give or take a few inches; but the man was stout where Grace was lithe. They stared each other down.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know about this,” said Petyr to Varys. “Didn’t your little birds sing you their lovely songs?”

“Godly powers are beyond the ken of my birds,” said Varys. “Indeed, beyond the ken of men. Surely  _you_ must have known, my lord,” he said to me. “He would likely be one of your god-children.”

I didn’t answer, my attention on this, my mind running as it tried to consider implications.

Grace and the Knight hadn’t moved to fight yet, both of them sharing quiet words with Grace doing the brunt of the talking.

“Is he family of yours?” I said to Renly. “He’s got your house sigil.”

“Not one I know, no,” said Renly. “You don’t know who he is?”

I didn’t answer. Capes were a cluster-fuck because more often than not, they became villains. We’d been lucky that Barden had triggered and found us, that we’d had time to become a good influence on him from the beginning, that he wasn’t of an age where he would disregard what we said. But this man wouldn’t be the same.

He was older than all of us, from his scarred and mean expression, he’d gone through a lot and he might not be willing to listen to us. If he was power hungry, then he could become a tyrant and that might be bad for us because people might direct the same fears at us.

_You must be thinking this too, right?_

The knight said something and Grace shifted.

The knight moved quickly, spry even with how clunky his armour was. He waved his sword, it too suffused with honey-yellow light, slashing it at Grace. She didn’t dodge. She held up a hand and caught the sword without trouble. The knight’s eyes opened wide, shock clear in his expression.

Part of Grace’s power. The invulnerability she gave herself was also a trump power, cancelling the effects of some powers.

Grace said something before she  _tugged,_ pulling the sword from his grasp. The light died out, leaving the sword as the rusty thing it had been before. Grace threw it aside and stepped forward, the knight brought up his shield, now expanded by the light to become larger. Grace jumped on it, landing with a loud clang that had everyone sit at attention; the knight shifted only the barest inches back, widening his stance and putting his weight forward so he could absorb the impact.

Grace used the footing to jump over the knight, landing hard and sweeping a leg. She caught the knight as he turned, with his footing uneven and she sent the man crashing into the ground. Grace rolled back, getting to her feet.

“…mean much,” I heard. “…shit…for you.”

The knight pulled himself to his feet then nodded.

He turned, walking closer to crowd and he fell to one knee. There were murmurs around us, but pretty quickly they died down.

“King Robert,” he said, louder than when he’d been talking to Grace. “I had thought by besting one of the gods I might be worthy of the honour to call myself one of your knights, one amongst your guard. But today I have seen the hubris of this desire. Lady Grace has seen fit to show me that even with this power, I am still nought but the man I was, with no greater skill than that which I held before; that this power makes me no greater a man.” His expression twisted at the last. “Even so, the wretch that I am, of meagre combat prowess. I wish to pledge myself to you and yours, to become a squire once more if need be, all so that I may use my god given power to serve you.”

King Robert stood, suddenly sober even with all the wine he’d been drinking.

“Ser Barristan,” he said, loud and booming, greater projection even than the knight. Ser Barristan, dressed in the white armour of the Kingsguard, stood taut. “I give you this man as squire, take him and shape him into a man who would comfortably sit amongst the knights of the Kingsguard.”

Ser Barristan made a show of walking up to the field, bowing to King Robert and walked off with the knight in tow.

“Well,” said Petyr. I glanced at him and he wore his sharp grin. “This promises to be interesting, doesn’t it?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Grace**

It was evening as we rode on horses through the city. Alex still wasn’t comfortable on his; he sat with his back straight and arm taut as he tried not to move too much. The tourney had ended only an hour ago with a few more matches from people who’d thought we’d ‘gift’ them with powers after fighting us.

None had won and none had triggered.

We were richer because of the matches and how easily Ava had won the melee, even with the lunatic swinging around a sword with green fire. Lord Baelish had told us that he’d give us our money by tomorrow. But now, with the tourney over, we didn’t really have any excuse for staying.

“I want to stay,” I said, glancing at Alex. I still wasn’t the best at riding a horse, but between my heightened perception and reflexes, it was easier to shift in the right ways so I didn’t fall or tug the horse at the wrong time. He didn’t have that luxury. “I want all of us to stay, maybe for another week.”

“That’ll make them suspicious,” said Alex.

“You know or you’re guessing?” I asked.

 _“Know,”_ he said. “I followed them after the tourney last night. They had a small council meeting and most of it revolved around Ser Olly, his powers and us.”

I sighed. “You didn’t tell me any of this,” I said.

“Because you didn’t need to know,” said Alex. “I’m the one that’s going to be staying here. _I_ _’m_ the one that really needs to know all of this and I need to start figuring this out on my own.”

“No. _I_ _’m_ in command. I’m the one that makes the decisions, and right now, I don’t even know if it’s still a good idea to leave you here on your own.”

“We don’t have a choice,” said Alex. “Nothing’s changed. They’re still insecure about us being here, about all the powers we have and what we could do if push came to shove. If we pull out of the whole ward thing then it complicates things.”

“You don’t think a new cape complicates things enough?” I said, my tone a bit harsh. I let my perception pick up, everything slowing around me. I mentally counted to ten all while calming myself. “I just…don’t want any of us hurt.”

“He can’t hurt me if we fought,” Alex said, his tone even, though I caught the edge of a frown tug at his lips. “Varys has all of your powers figured out, mostly, but he has trouble with mine.”

“Tell me everything you found out last night,” I said and that it was an order was left unsaid.

“The knight’s name is Olly, but you know that,” said Alex. “He comes from Bitterbridge, which is in the Reach and he’s been a knight for three years now.”

“Do you know how old he is?” I asked.

“Mid to late twenties?” said Alex. He shrugged. “They weren’t sure either and they didn’t really stick on the point. He was promoted to knight because he fought off some bandits that were trying to attack some village in the Reach. He took down six people on his own. But he didn’t want to be under a lord. The story he tells, he’s been travelling around with other knights.”

“He’s the one who told this story?” I asked. I gave Alex a glance. “He could be lying.”

“Varys thinks he might be a sellsword,” said Alex. “A mercenary, and that he’s been training on the job. Apparently, he isn’t the best with a sword and shield. At least that’s what Ser Barristan Selmy said.”

“Which would just be our luck,” I muttered, thinking about everything I knew about triggers. Official word was that they came from moments where the person was heroic but their strength just couldn’t cut it. But this was a lie for the public, optics. The official texts said triggers came from trauma. It hit me that his trauma might be the fact that he wasn’t a very good knight. He’d wanted to prove himself after all. It was the entire reason he’d decided on the show at the tourney.

“I threatened him, you know,” I said. “Told him that if he started shit, we’d end him.”

_Which might not have been the best idea if what I_ _’m thinking is true._

“That’s…” Alex sighed.

“You can give me shit about it if you want,” I said. I hadn’t really given myself enough time to think and it felt obvious that maybe I made a bad call.

“Just…it’s a Weaver move,” Alex said and he shrugged. “I’m not sure if you were like this before she joined the team. But…I’ve been seeing a lot more of her in what you do.”

My stomach twisted. “Weaver’s dealt with a lot of shit,” I said. It felt like I was defensive. I counted to ten and tried again. “She’s dealt with a lot and she’s survived. The Nine, the whole shit with Echidna and then Alexandria—”

“You don’t have to give me the breakdown, I know what she did.”

I sighed a little. “All I’m saying is that…even if some of the stuff she does may be over the line, some of it still works,” I said. “Things are complicated. We’re holding a tray with two dozen eggs and they’re rolling around all over the place, knocking into each other and almost falling over the edges of the tray.”

I caught Alex looking at me.

“What?”

“Just…that was the most convoluted metaphor I’ve ever heard. You know you could have just said we’re juggling too many balls, right?”

“Juggling is easy,” I said. “But carrying a tray of things that’ll crack if they hit each other too hard is not. Anyway, you’re missing the point.

“Could you just use balls?” he said. “I don’t know. I can’t take the egg thing seriously. It’s just making me want to ask a lot of questions.”

 _“Fine._ We have all these balls in the air and more keep being added in, sometimes it’s better to just make sure one of the balls is easier to juggle, y’know?”

“By threatening the ball?” he said.

“Hopefully?” I said and shrugged. “I threatened him. If he wasn’t going to do shit, then he’ll still not do shit. But if he does, then he’ll have second thoughts.”

“Or he’ll just be sneaky,” said Alex.

“I fucking hate sneaky,” I muttered, my eyes roving over the city.

The sun had set and with it the last slivers of light. There was no moon out, which made the streets eerily dark. The buildings were tall, clustered closely together and there was no real planning to how things had been put together. Sure there were lines, long roads leading from gates to other roads that would lead to the castle. But they would be hard to discern with how dark it was.

There weren’t a lot of people in the streets, most were in their houses with shutters open and low red light bleeding out. Those who walked the streets were divided into two types: Those rushing to get home and the sort that was comfortable in the dark.

“Do you know where we are?” I asked Alex.

“Um…” He closed his eyes. “I don’t think there’s a name for it, but the next wide street we run across will be the Street of Steel.”

I nodded. “Maybe I should stay,” I said. “Two’s better than one, right?”

“I have the feeling you wouldn’t be happy if you stayed here,” he said.

“You aren’t happy too,” I said. “At least if I’m unhappy then I can deal, but if you’re unhappy, then…” I stopped, giving him a look. He’d tensed. “I’m sorry, I—”

“It’s fine,” he said. “It’s…rational worry. But I’ve got a feeling that you won’t deal as well as you think you will. I’m fine with this, even with Olly. I can handle it.”

_And I don_ _’t really want to be here, but that isn’t enough to leave you with the dogs when I don’t think you’ll deal._

“Fuck it,” I said. “Whatever they think, we’ll be staying a little longer, get a sense of who Olly is and what he’ll mean for the future. If things are bad enough then I’m staying, no questions asked.”

“Sure,” Alex said with a shrug.

We walked in silence, both of us looking around, ignoring the stench that would sometimes drift towards us with the heavy evening air.

“Are we gonna talk about the guy?” Alex asked. “He fucking dies and no one bats an eye.”

“To be fair there _were_ screams,” I said, but my stomach twisted and flipped as I thought about it. Two men in heavy armour riding at each other, one so tall it made sense that he was called the Mountain-Who-Rides; there’d been a crack, the smaller one had toppled over and he hadn’t gotten up.

“But everyone continued like it was nothing,” said Alex. He sighed. “This place is fucked up.”

“I get it,” I said. Death wasn’t something new, especially after the whole Echidna thing. Raymancer had been the only one I’d known personally who’d died, but there’d been so many others there. There’d been clones I hadn’t held back against, punching so hard bodies ripped apart; then there’d been Behemoth.

All that death, but I still hadn’t gotten so used to it that the faces of all the dead weren’t seared into memory.

“I feel like we should be used to it at this point,” I said. “We’ve been here long enough. We know that things are different.”

“We’ve seen _better,_ ” said Alex. “We know that shit like this doesn’t have to be normal. I think that might be why it’s surprising when something really shitty happens.”

“That makes sense,” I said and sighed. _“I don’t like thinking about us staying here for the rest of our lives. It’s fucking_ terrifying.”

Alex gave me a long look. _“Maybe this is harsh,”_ he said. _“But…if there’s no choice, we’ve got to accept it. When…I spent a lot of time not dealing with being gay when I was younger. There was a lot of stuff attached to it, you know? People would make all these comments and they would make me feel like shit, so I just pushed it down. But, like, one day I was sitting there and I imagined myself marrying a guy and it felt like a fuck-ton of weight fell off my shoulders. Sure, I still didn’t come out, but I felt better.”_

“Lose all hope and you’ll be happier,” I muttered, looking down.

“I don’t think it’s about losing hope,” he said. “Just…Fuck, I wish I was better at this. Um…there’s a difference between accepting where you are and looking for a better way forward, and denying everything around you and pushing forward. Denial uses up _so_ much energy because you’re constantly having to keep back the bad thoughts. With acceptance, sure there are bad thoughts, but you sort of get to let them in, let them run their course and then you’re left better at the end, even if you’re spent.”

He shrugged, suddenly self-conscious.

“’Least that’s what my therapist used to say,” he said. “I’m shit at doing all of that, but,” he shrugged again, “it’s something I know and I can use. So it’s better if you know it too.”

“Thanks,” I said.

We got into the Street of Steel. It was wider than the streets we’d been moving through before and the buildings looked better, albeit they were made of stone instead of steel and glass. There were more storefronts and most of them made armour. I’d been through this street with Merwyn while we’d been looking for blacksmiths. We’d gotten six apprentices that had been interested in coming with us, but we’d still have to pay their masters for their ‘student loans.’

“Olive mentioned something that’s a good idea that’ll be fucking hard to do,” I said.

“Yeah?” said Alex.

“Trains. I think she’s tired of not having to stay in one place,” I said.

“Nah, she just wants to stay here,” said Alex. “Olive’s a good kid, but…she sort of likes the limelight. Do you know who her favourite villains are?”

“Skitter’s one,” I said, grinning a little. “She takes anything Weaver says as gospel.”

“And Bambina,” Alex said.

 _“No,”_ I said. _“Her._ Fuck, she’s annoying.”

“It’s the attention, I think,” said Alex. “Weaver, when she was Skitter, made national and international news. Bambina’s got high ratings. I think Olive saw herself like them, she’d quickly rise through the ranks and make a name for herself.”

“So the swearing thing’s from Bambina and the whole intimidating thing is from Skitter?” I said.

Alex shrugged. “She’s still a kid even if she’s surrounded by all this _shit._ She’s still trying to figure out the person she wants to be. Which is why I’m worried that she’s spending so much time with Joffrey.”

“What Ava said,” I said.

Alex nodded. “Kid’s…a monster. I think he might be a psychopath cause he loves it when others get hurt. I’m a little afraid that’ll rub off on Ava if she stays too long around him.”

“Is this you telling me to keep them apart?” I said. “Because Olive won’t like that. It’ll push her closer to Joffrey. The stereotypical teenager move.”

“You can’t stay too long is all I’m saying,” said Alex and he shrugged. “If you stay then enough will stick that it’ll be _her._ _”_

“Okay,” I said. “Just, a few days, maybe a week. We’ll figure out this guy’s powers, his personality and the reactions of the people around him. We’ll see if there are any other triggers around we need to worry about, that sort of thing. If everything’s okay, we’ll leave. But if it’s not, we might have to rework who leaves and who stays.”

Alex nodded.

We rode the rest of the way in silence.

£

“You do not drink,” King Robert said at breakfast. We sat on a balcony overlooking a training yard, below us were Olly and a knight with average looking features. The knight was younger than Olly, but it was clear the difference between them. Olly swung his sword without any real skill while the younger knight watched, ducked out of the way and waited until he moved forward, landing a blow.

In front of us was a spread fit for five people and King Robert was moving through it without grace.

“No,” I said. “It makes thinking foggy and it makes you do things you wouldn’t do otherwise.”

“Liquid courage,” he said.

“Liquid stupidity,” my mouth said before I even thought about what that meant. He shot me a look, his cheeks pink and his eyes hot. “Do you know what statistics are, your grace?”

“No,” he said. “You will have to explain them to me.”

“They’re a discipline in my world. A lot of information is measured and turned into numbers. There might be a count of all the people in a city to figure out who many of them are women and how many are men.”

“That might be something our maesters have done in the past,” he said. “Especially when winter approaches and we need to count the stocks in our granaries, the mouths we’ll have to feed. What does it have to do with this?”

“Well, we do those counts with crimes as well,” I continued. “We figure out the areas with the most crimes, who the people are that cause the most crimes and the conditions they’re under. Most of the time, it’s usually people who are drunk or are under the influence of drugs that cause certain crimes. People that are drunk are more likely to cause fights—of course there’s personality to consider as a factor—and people that are addicts are more likely to steal to fuel their addiction.”

“So no one drinks in your world?”

“People drink in moderation. But it’s not uncommon that some people won’t drink unless it’s a special event.”

“Then take this as a special event,” he said. “You’re having breakfast with your king.” He poured a cup of wine. “Drink.”

I took a breath, letting my perception pick up and the world slow.

 _This shouldn_ _’t be the hill you die on,_ I thought.

“No thank you,” I said, even though the smart thing to do would be to play along. I glanced at the wine, felt thoughts starting to intrude and pushing them back. A lot of shit in my life had happened because of ‘liquid stupidity’ and drinking felt like one of those slippery slopes that might have me make the same mistakes as Dad.

“You would disobey a king’s command?” he said.

“Yes, your grace,” I said. “Especially this.”

King Robert shook his head, gulping down the wine he’d poured. We stayed in silence for a while before he spoke. 

“We tried to give him new armour, a new sword and his gift did not work,” said King Robert. “Try as he might, it did not fill with light, nor become stronger. But the moment he put on his old armour, battered and rusted though it was, he could empower it.”

“It’s to remind him of where he came from,” I said. “We give people these powers and they often forget the people they were, reach and grasp for power. The armour will be with him and it will remind him of who he was, hopefully that’ll shape the person he’ll become.”

“So _you_ _’re_ the ones who gave him his powers?” he asked.

No one had missed how surprised we’d been when Olly had appeared, least of all Varys and Petyr Baelish. When they’d met just after Olly, they’d discussed us and how we were maybe running everyone for fools. That maybe we were like Olly and Barden, that we were smallfolk who’d been lucky enough to get powers.

“Lady Cuff told us last night,” I said. “She sent out a sliver of her power into the world and it touched Olly. Surely you’ve seen the resemblance of their powers. Lady Cuff has the ability to make the armour she wears stronger, while Ser Olly is able to make the armour his rusted armour stronger.”

“But they’re different,” said King Robert. “His armour lights up.”

“Just as Lord Wanton and Barden’s powers are different,” I said. “Wanton’s is stronger while Barden’s is more limited.”

If we were smallfolk that had accidentally gotten powers, then we were a problem. It meant that everything we’d done thus far was consolidating power. It meant that we didn’t come from a different world and that every time we didn’t follow some norm we were doing it on purpose, a show of wanton disregard.

 _This_ made sense to the story we’d told. We were lost gods trying to find a way home. Even if they didn’t believe that Barden and Alex were related, hopefully they’d put two and two together. That the only reason Cuff would ‘send out’ her power, would be because she was looking for family.

Of course this couldn’t be said directly, we technically didn’t know about their meetings, which meant we had to _hope_ that they read things the right way.

“The same is true for the power Cuff gave Olly,” I continued. “He can only empower _one_ piece of armour while she can do so with whatever armour she wears.”

It was giving away information they had. Varys had a keen eye and he’d figured out the obvious interpretations of our powers. It was better to give that away than to play coy. It endeared them to us if even a little. Hopefully all those littles added up to something big.

King Robert nodded. “What are your plans, now?” he said. “You’ve come here and you’re leaving…?”

“Wanton.”

“Wanton as a ward,” he said. “Ned tells me you’re trying to go back to your home?”

I nodded. “We’re building something that’ll hopefully get us home,” I said. “But that’ll need a lot of materials.”

“Which is why you’ve been buying so much iron?” he said. “Getting a lot of the apprentice smiths?”

“Yes, your grace,” I said.

“Some in my council think you might be building for war,” he said, giving me a side-eyed glance.

“They’d be wrong, you grace,” I said. “Because if we were, we wouldn’t need weapons,” the threat, “and certainly we’d be more clandestine about getting iron and smiths.”

He hummed. “I’ll be travelling with you,” he said. “Back to Oldstones. Myself, Ned, a few of the white cloaks. There I want to meet your leader. But first, you’ll escort us to Riverrun.”

“Riverrun, your grace?”

“Riverrun,” he said. “Only a matter of time before you hear it with the rumour mongering is this shit of a place. But Ned’s wife, Catlyn Stark. She took my wife’s imp brother and the two of them were marching off to Riverrun.”

I took a second and stretched it out: There were houses that were important and there were no three houses more important that the Baratheons, Starks and Lannisters. Because each had a powerful position in the Seven Kingdoms.

“Is this a command you’ll take or one you’ll disregard like the wine?” he said.

“As you will, your grace,” I said, nodding my head.

He only snorted.

We watched as Olly and the young knight fought. Olly was breathing hard, his clothes scuffed up and his face scrunched in irritation while the young knight had a smug grin. Ser Barristan watched, his face placid. He said something I couldn’t hear.

“You shouldn’t be training him like this,” I said.

“And how should I be training him?” he asked.

“Training him with his powers,” I said. “Doing it like this won’t make him feel out the subtleties of his power. If I could make the offer—”

King Robert burst out in laughter. “And there it is,” he muttered. “For all he is an ass, Varys knows his craft. He said you would want him as one of yours.”

“What I _was_ going to say is that you should bring him with you when you travel west. We’ll be able to offer insight there, see his ability and how we can help it grow. Cuff is his god-parent after all, and he’ll be better off for having trained with her than with anyone else.”

“So be it,” Robert said. He took a sip of his wine. “You’re free to leave.”

“Of course, your grace,” I said. I stood and hopped over the balcony, moving my invulnerability to my feet and landing hard enough to crack the ground. Both fighters stopped.

Olly swallowed as he looked at me.

I jumped again, taking off into the air.

Calling him to us. Hopefully he would see that it was better to train with us than them. If he didn’t take it as that, then it would be a threat for if he started shit.

£

King Robert hadn’t given a deadline, but it felt as if we’d leave sooner than later. I spent the rest of the day supervising as we started packing up. There were foodstuffs, items and people that would be leaving with us, but many more than would be staying and sorting them apart was a task. There were the knights that had come with us from their lords’ castles and holdfasts and each of them seemed to be making a plea for us to escort them back home.

“You have to understand, my lady,” a knight said and he looked worse for wear. He’d had armour with him on coming here, but now he had on shabby clothes and his sword. “King’s Landing is a seductive city—”

“That’s not my problem,” I said. “I’m sorry, but there are a lot more things and people on the travel back. More important people than you. You’ll have to take a horse—”

“I couldn’t afford a horse, my lady,” he said, stricken.

I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”

He wasn’t the only one and after the first few times of fending them off, I had Olive deal with them.

“Alright you knights!” she said after less than an hour of dealing with them. She stood on a cow, her face pink with irritation. “If you’re here because you think we’ll get you back home, get over it. We’ve got enough people to move around and you’re just not important enough that you should use the space. _Accept_ it because it won’t change. Now, if anyone else comes to me begging to be taken back home, my little friend here,” one of her metal men waved, “will clobber you, kapish?”

A lot of the crowd of people we had left after that and the guards for our compound didn’t let in any more vagrant knights.

“This isn’t going to be a comfortable ride,” I said as afternoon came and went. A lot of the cows were filled and we were even having to have wagons attached to them so more stuff could be added onto them. “Especially for a king.”

“King Robert has to understand that it wouldn’t be comfortable,” said Gerrard. “Our rides are about speed, not convenience.”

“Didn’t stop you from complaining a lot,” said Barden, grinning.

“It was…unexpected,” said Gerrard. “How many of the king’s people will be travelling with us?”

I shrugged. “I’m expecting twelve at minimum,” I said. “We’ll have to give the king and the hand their own mini-cows, which’ll mean shuffling people around. “Bare minimum comfort we can afford, but we won’t go gently.”

“I hope this travel goes without trouble,” said Gerrard.

By evening we had a list and word that we’d be leaving into two days. Travelling with us would be King Robert and his two squires, Eddard Stark, Joffrey Baratheon and Sandor Clegane, four of the King’s Guard and Olly. Eleven people, which meant the ride would be a _lot_ uncomfortable for the people in the back with the food and metal.

“At a certain point we’ve gotta think about having too much weight too,” said Olive as we had dinner in the evening.

 Most of the work was done, with the heavy things already tied into place. We had more people at the dinner table because of the smiths and dyer’s and seamstresses we’d picked up.

“I haven’t been using the big cows a lot, but all that wear and tear from the road coming here didn’t just disappear. The joints will have a lot of damage and if we add too much weight, my telekinesis could decide to spaz out and not shore it up.”

“We did okay from Seagard,” said Alex.

“But then we had Evey and he could tap them to make sure I wasn’t running them ragged,” she said. She shrugged. “There’s nothing we can do about it, but let’s be careful okay? I sort of want to get to Oldstones and just _sit_ for a while.”

Ava cleared her throat. She’d been quiet for most of the meal and while we’d worked, she’d spent the day with Princess Myrcella.

“I think I’m staying too,” she said.

_Fuck. What?_

“Where did come from?” said Olive.

Ava shrugged, looking down. “It’s been something I’ve been thinking about for a while. I… _don_ _’t know, I want to make a difference?”_ she said. “And, maybe being here is that?”

“That’s sounds like you haven’t thought things through,” I said.

She shrugged again. “Maybe I haven’t, but I sort of want to see? I’m not going to stay here forever, just…keep Alex company until you guys get back. I mean, if the king’s travelling to Oldstones then he’ll want to come back and maybe he’ll want Olive to take him back, so I’ll travel with you guys back then.”

“Are you sure you want this?” I asked. “Being away from Theo?”

“The one thing Theo regrets the most is that he never stood up,” said Ava. “He kept quiet, went along with things and he even _triggered_ when all of it was taken away from him. I think he’ll understand.”

“If you’re sure,” I said. “It’s your decision to make.”

I sighed as I lay on a sofa, my head on Barden’s lap as he ran his fingers through my hair.

“The day’s done,” he said. “You’ll worry about things tomorrow.”

“I honestly can’t wait until I don’t have to make any more decisions,” I muttered. “It feels like since getting to this place it’s been decision after decision that I’m not comfortable with.”

“You’re doing well,” said Barden. “For all I know of Lady Weaver, she would be happy with the decisions you made.”

I smiled a little. “I need to do something to destress,” I said. “How good is your stamina.”

Barden gave me a look.

“We’ll be roof hopping,” I said. “It’s been a while since I went on patrol and I miss it.”

“Do you think we’ll run across crimes?” he said.

I shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter. Just running on rooftops is fun,” I said.

“I’ve never done it before,” he said.

“This is a good time to try, while we still have a city and tall buildings.” I stood. “Change into something more comfortable and we’ll go.”

“Okay,” he said.

The run was what I needed, albeit it was on the slower side. Barden could run pretty well but he didn’t do well to sudden shifts in the environment and he _balked_ when it came to jumping between buildings. Which…was hard for me to understand because even the tall buildings here were on the shorter side.

We ran for two hours, not finding a single crime, before going back for the night.

The next morning were the rest of the preparations, checking over our lists and seeing if any people had any second thoughts about leaving King’s Landing. For many of them this was where they’d been born and the shift to a country life could be something they didn’t want.

“I was thinking we send the others a letter,” said Alex. “If you guys arrive there then they’ll think the worst. We don’t want to do that to them.”

“I miss cell phones so much,” I muttered as I nodded. I got a letter from the queen, requesting that Olive, Ava and I have lunch with her. “Can you handle that while I get ready for this?”

 _“Sure,”_ said Alex. _“I’ve been wanting an excuse to get into the maester’s tower for a while. Gonna do some spying.”_

“Have fun,” I said. Our servants prepared the baths and after a few hours we were ready, wearing our finest clothing, though Ava hit it out of the park. Princess Myrcella had given her a new dress as a gift and she pulled it out for the occasion.

We found the queen in the main castle, with a spread fit for a whole family on the table. She smiled but it was tight, there was a mark on one side of her face, hidden by makeup that wasn’t evenly applied.

 _Because that_ _’s a thing that we still have to deal with,_ I thought.

“My ladies,” said Queen Cersei.

“Your grace,” we said and we bowed.

“Terrible,” she said, but she said it with a smile. “But that’s to be excused. You’re unused to bowing.”

“Yes, your grace,” said Ava, taking the lead.

“Please. Sit,” she said. We did. “I’d thought I’d invite you all so we might eat together one last time before you leave. My husband has seen fit to inform me that he and my son will be travelling with you.”

“Yes, your grace,” I said. “Though not all of us will be leaving.”

“Is that so?” she said. “More have seen fit to stay in King’s Landing.”

“I have, your grace,” said Ava, smiling. “I’ve loved spending time with Princess Myrcella. I didn’t want to do without her company.”

“She _is_ a sweet child,” said Queen Cersei.

“She is,” said Ava agreed.

“You won’t be staying?” she said to Olive. “Joffrey has a fondness for you.”

“Nah,” said Olive. “I’m the magic school bus. Can’t stay in one place too long.”

“Magic school bus?” said Queen Cersei.

“A…show?” I said.

“Like a mummer’s show,” Ava added. “It’s for kids primarily. They got on this…cart? Going to fantastical places so they can be taught lessons. What she said makes sense here because the magic school bus could travel anywhere in a short amount of time.”

“Through magic,” said the queen.

“Through magic,” Ava agreed, her smile turning nervous. “It was a kid’s show. Something you grew up watching most Saturdays. I think you call it…Cronesday.”

 _Okay, what?_ I thought. I’d been here a while and though I’d known there were days of the week, they hadn’t been used around me and I hadn’t thought to keep track of them. It surprised me that Ava knew about them when all she did was spend time with Myrcella and Sansa Stark.

“You’ve learnt a lot of our culture since your arrival here,” said Queen Cersei.

“I’ve spent some time during the girls’ lessons,” Ava explained. “I no longer have to attend my own lessons and I enjoy having something to focus on.”

“You’re quite the lady,” said the queen, her smile more genuine now. It was stupid, but I couldn’t help but smart at the rib. I looked at Olive before she could say anything, but she didn’t seem to be paying any attention, only picking at the better-looking food on the table.

“But you should know,” the queen continued, “that when we speak in an official capacity, we use the long form of the name: Day of the Crone.”

“I’ll make a note of it, your grace,” said Ava, her smile not faltering.

“What is it you plan to do now?” the queen asked. “I’d heard that you were trying to build something that would take you to your world?”

“Yes, your grace,” I said. “That’s still the plan.”

“Plans are rarely ever that simple,” she said.

“Of course, your grace,” I said. “We’re planning to make Oldstones a point of industry, get enough money coming in that we won’t have to travel to buy materials.”

“Industry requires a lot of money to start,” she said. “Especially when you’re to build from nothing. Perhaps I could speak to my father, Tywin Lannister. I’m sure I could have him give you a loan at a reasonable interest. The buying of land can be quite expensive.”

“As kind as your offer is, your grace, for now it’s unneeded,” I said. “We’ve been fortunate enough to have a portion of land offered to us by Lord Tully. We don’t need as much money when it comes to building and our silk trade runs itself. But may we hold the offer? Times might be tough in the future and we might need low-interest capital.”

“Of course,” she said. “You may consider the Lannisters allies in your endeavours.”

“You honour us, your grace,” I said, with a tight smile. I could see from her expression that she knew this for the rejection it was. But it couldn’t be helped. We couldn’t be dependent on anyone because that would come with a lot of shit. 

The lunch was light after that, mostly eating and Ava tackling most of the conversations, sharing impressions about King’s Landing and drawing similarities between the city and Chicago.

“…that seems impossible,” said Queen Cersei.

“It’s a reality,” said Ava. “Buildings over forty storeys tall. They’re called skyscrapers.”

“And how would people climb up that many stairs?” she asked.

“There are elevators,” said Ava. “Giant boxes that are pulled up along the floors. They use electricity, which is harder to explain, so as long as there’s power they move…”

We ended the lunch shortly after the conversation, with the queen saying she’d be happy to have dine with Ava again in the future.

“She’s not as good an actor as she thinks,” Olive said. “I mean, it was clear she was just trying to get in our good books.”

“Give her the benefit of the doubt,” said Ava. “She raised Myrcella and she’s nice. She could be a nice person.”

“Nice people can come out of shitty situations,” said Olive.

“Preach,” I said.

Ava looked at me. “You think she was acting too?”

“I think the main reason she called us here was to get information,” I said. _“Alex said people don’t talk to her about things. Her only source of information is Varys and we all know that we can’t trust him.”_

 _“Praise,”_ said Olive.

 _“Preach,”_ Ava corrected.

“Whatever.” 

There were guards at points through the castle, wearing gold and red armour with lion motifs on them. They kept their distance but their eyes were on us as we moved. I caught muttering, but I couldn’t tell the words. I ignored it, focusing on not getting lost.

Not that it helped.

It was so easy to get turned around and soon we were in a part of the castle that seemed older, with suits of armour with three-headed dragons instead of stags.

“I think we’re lost,” said Olive.

“I know,” I said. “Roof hop. It’ll be easier.”

“Do you think they’ll mind if I take one of these?” said Ava.

Olive shrugged. “Doesn’t look like this place gets much TLC. Filch it.”

Ava looked to me. “Yeah. Do it.”

We watched her as she got dressed, handing her dress over to Olive. The younger girl got on my back and we moved, scaling walls and using the height to get a sense of where we wanted to go. We’d been unknowingly going the wrong direction, headed for the sea while we should be heading in land. We walked the sloped roofs, careful not to slip and jumped down in a part of the castle that took us straight to our compound.

At some point I spotted a frail boy chasing cats.

Gerrard, Merwyn, Barden and few of the dysters and dexters were out when we got back and three of the smiths we’d picked up were looking the cows over. They weren’t to _work_ on them, but they were to look out for any wear and tear. Olive had told them to think about designs that would ease the wear and tear, and they seemed diligent enough. One of them, who I’d seen carrying a bull helmet, was paying attention to the craftsmanship of the cow heads.

Our knights greeted us as we arrived.

“How’d it go?” Alex asked, he lounged in the study. He had a list in front of him and when I saw it had, it had a list of names divided by occupation and pay. At the corner was a list of the average wages of each occupation.

“Good,” I said. “The list?”

“Um trying to get a sense of expenses,” he said. “People get paid per fortnight, which means I’m going to have to fork out this money every two weeks. This isn’t looking at anything like food and maintenance for horses and armour and all that. Thankfully, a lot of the knights we were given get paid for by their lords, but I still have to look out for the knights we hired.”

“How do other people usually get their money?” I asked. “It’s not like we can transfer you a money allowance.”

“Maybe short-term loans?” he said. “Banker’s bills? I’ll talk to Petyr this evening to talk things over.”

“You trust him?”

 _“Trust is a strong word,”_ he said. _“But he’ll give me the heads up, at least. He seems nice enough. There are other lords and ladies here and I’ll ask them to make sure I have a broad view of everything going on.”_

“Do what you think is best,” I said. “I’m going to take this off, get some light sparring in before I veg out for the day.”

“Sure,” said Alex.

I got done with cleaning up before it started sparring. Late afternoon we were visited by Ser Barristan Selmy, bringing Olly who was dressed in better armour.

“My lords and ladies, ser knights,” said Ser Barristan Selmy. “I hope we are not disturbing anything of import.”

“No,” I said. “I was getting in some sparring. Olly.”

“My lady,” said Olly with a little bow.

“You’ve changed armour,” I said.

“We found a solution to that,” said Ser Barristan. “We destroyed his armour, melted the metal and threw it into the ocean while Ser Olly watched. We gave him a new set of armour and sword and he was able to use his gift on the new armour.”

“Clever,” I said. “Any setbacks? Powers tend not to like that sort of thing.”

“It’s not as strong as before,” said Olly. “I have to _push_ to make my ability manifest.”

“Putting some hair in the armour might help,” said Alex as he appeared from his ghostly form. “Finicky powers can be like that. Was that the past armour something you had for a long time?”

“Yes, m’lord,” said Olly. “I sold my horse to get that armour. It has seen me through much.”

“Blood, sweat and tears went into that. You can shortcut it with hair, but I don’t think that’ll take with armour,” said Alex.

“Definitely won’t,” I said. “Give it time, use your power a lot on that armour and it’ll get easier.”

“Which is why we’re here, my lady,” said Ser Barristan. “His grace told us of your recommendation to have Ser Olly use his gifts while he trains. I thought it might be better if he sparred with either you or Lady Cuff.”

“Cuff’s not going to be looking for a fight right now,” I said. “But I’m up for it and with me you won’t have to hold back.”

£

“A letter from King Robert, my lady,” a boy said, twelve or eleven, well dressed. He found us in the morning just after breakfast. Alex, who looked like he still needed to go to sleep, let out a long sigh.

“It’s urgent, my lady.”

“Okay,” I said and he handed it over. The paper was good quality and there was a wax seal with a crowned stag on it. I broke it, read over it quickly and let out a sigh. “We won’t be leaving today.”

“Why?” Ava asked.

I shook my head. “There’s no explanation. Just that we won’t be leaving for a while.”

“I could maybe go talk to Renly,” said Alex. “Maybe he’ll tell me what’s going on.”

“You look like you need to sleep,” I said. “Kid, stay. I’m gonna send a return letter.”

“Of course, my lady,” he said. I motioned with my head and the others came with me as I went to the study. “Alex?”

He disappeared for a few seconds before he appeared again. “We’re clear.”

“I’m hoping you got something?” I said.

He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s all blurry,” he said and sighed. “I spent most of the night trying to build a map of the tunnels. Followed a few people, but it didn’t really get me anything. The only thing that _was_ interesting was seeing Eddard Stark leaving the part of the castle Peytr lives in sometimes.”

“Is that strange?” I asked.

“Eddard’s…”

“Dour,” I said.

“Pensive,” said Ava.

“He looks like he’s _always_ disappointed,” Olive said.

“It is part and parcel of the duties of the Hand to speak to the Master of Coin,” said Gerrard, ignoring us.

“Not around midnight,” said Alex with a shrug. “It was _very_ late into the night. It’s the entire reason I followed them in the first place.”

“Plots are always done at midnight,” Olive said sagely.

Gerrard only frowned.

“What are we going to do about it?” Ava asked.

“What _can_ we do about it?” I asked. “We don’t get involved. We let things play and see if we’re needed.”

“I’ll sleep,” said Alex, “then hopefully get a sense of everything.”

The day was stilted after that. We had to tell our people that our trip home had been postponed and we had no idea why. Preparations had been made and completed, but now there was nothing left to do, which left a lot of people meandering, especially since some of their stuff had already been packed away. I trained with Barden, but that didn’t feel right when there was something nebulous hanging over our heads.

We decided to go out mid-afternoon, rooftop hopping. We did this for more than an hour, which was why it was odd that we spotted so much activity from the gold cloaks. They were out in three-man teams, wearing heavy armour and going through businesses, asking questions and then going in, searching and coming out to go to another business.

There were more people around inns and brothels, guards that stood outside, while others searched within.

“This is big,” said Barden. “To have the city guard out in force.”

“At least it’s not directed at us,” I muttered, even if my stomach was twisting, my mind unconsciously speeding up my perception so I could pick apart the details.

I _wanted_ to know what was going on because I knew how mercurial shit could be. My mind flicked back to the conversation I’d had with King Robert a while back, when he’d been testing the bounds of his kingly power and the ability to enforce them. King Robert was insecure about the power he had now that we were more powerful, and maybe my threat didn’t help.

Was this a grab at power?

Was there another trigger in King’s Landing?

Was King Robert hoping that the next trigger would help him consolidate power?

 _Taylor was right about learning to lip-read,_ the thought flickered through my mind.

“Let’s head back to the castle,” I said, _hoping_ that Alex had found something. He wasn’t there when we got back, but Gerrard was and he had news.

“The Master of Coin has disappeared,” said Gerrard. “As Lord Renly explains it, Lord Baelish was to serve as Lord Eddard’s witness against some crime. This morning, when they were to speak to King Robert, Lord Baelish did not appear. They’re looking for him now.”

I let out a breath of relief.

_Not connected to us. Not something that_ _’ll put our people in danger, though it could just be a bluff._

While I’d been twiddling my thumbs, everyone else had taken the initiative. Ava was with Princess Myrcella; and Olive was spending time with Prince Joffrey. When Olive got back, she had more news.

“Okay,” she said. “So it’s like this. Someone tried to kill one of Eddy’s kids. Brandon, I think. First, he fell off a tower, then someone tried to kill him. Eddy thinks it was Tyrion Lannister, the queen’s brother, which is why his wife man-napped him.”

“Where does Petyr Baelish fit into all of this?” I asked.

“Well, Eddy’s wife apparently came to the King’s Landing to investigate this. Timeline wise, this happened while Eddy and everyone else were travelling here. Anyway, Eddy and his wife talk to Petyr, he tells them that the knife belongs to Tyrion when it really belonged to the king. King Robert had lost it in Winterfell.”

“So he lies,” I said. “Petyr. He lies to the Starks to frame the Lannisters. But why would the Starks by that so easily?”

“Something confounds me,” said Gerrard. “Lord Baelish was not in King’s Landing. How would he have known that the boy fell from the tower? And how would he have sent word to the North so quickly? How would he have hired an assassin?”

“A lot about this doesn’t make sense,” I said. “But maybe that’s why they’re trying to find him. To make sure that he fills in the blanks.” 

“And while he’s disappeared, the realm is left without a Master of Coin,” said Gerrard.

I took a breath, long and deep. “This is above us,” I said. “What’s important is that we’re not involved, this isn’t going to be turned on us.”

“Though our trip back east will be postponed until this is resolved,” said Gerrard.

 _Fuck._ I really wanted to be out of here. I didn’t like being around the King and all these important people, walking on so many eggshells. There was just _so_ much room to make mistake and it felt like the longer we were here, the larger the possibility of that coming true.

By evening Ava had gotten back and unlike Olive, she didn’t find anything as useful. All she noted was that there were more guards around the Princess than there usually were.

“Queen Cersei’s keeping her kids close,” said Ava. “With a lot of Lannister guards surrounding them. Myrcella said she might be afraid that Petyr’s bought some of the guards.”

“Make sense,” said Olive. “The guy’s shady _and_ he deals with money? He’s _gotta_ have a lot of people in his pocket.”

“There’s still so much I’m not getting here,” I said. “So much that’s confusing that it’s frustrating, and what makes it worse is that we can’t just call everyone so we can consolidate information.”

“Myrcella’s worried that Catlyn Stark will hurt her uncle while all of this happens.”

“They _should_ have sent a raven to Riverrun,” said Barden.

“Ravens can lose their way,” said Gerrard. “They can be shot out of the sky. Even _then_ it will be a few days before they arrive. A lot can happen in those few days.”

“And what’ll that mean if Tyrion Lannister is hurt?” I asked.

“War in some form, no doubt,” said Gerrard. “Tywin Lannister would never accept his son’s death without recourse. I cannot see the Starks standing down. King Robert will be caught in the middle, between his oldest friend and his wife’s family.”

“I’m going to be sleeping in Maegor’s Holdfast tonight,” said Ava.

“I have no idea what that is,” said Olive.

“Where the royal apartments are,” said Ava and she frowned. “How could you have been here all this time and not know that?”

Olive shrugged. “I didn’t know it had a name,” she said. “And anyway it doesn’t matter, Miss Fancy Breaches.”

“Whatever,” said Ava. “I’m going to wait for Alex before heading up.”

It was well into the night when Alex got back and he filled in the information we already had, though there was a lot more than had been going on.

“This doesn’t leave here,” he said, after having checked that the walls were clear. The doors into our study were closed and we made sure that there was no one near. “Eddard Stark thinks that the queen and Jaime Lannister killed the last Hand of the King.”

Gerrard looked stricken. “That… _why?_ _”_

Alex shook his head. “Eddard has had the king locked in his chamber for the last few hours and he’s _not_ letting them him out. Eddard’s the one making a lot of the decisions, sending out letters with the royal seal but he’s had the king sitting in the corner for most of it.”

“There’s still a lot I don’t understand,” I said.

“King Robert and Lord Stark were raised from mere boys by the previous Hand, Lord Arryn,” Gerrard explained. “Lord Arryn shielded them when the last king, Aerys Targaryen, sought to have them killed. He would have been a father to them. For the king to hear that his wife played a role in his murder…”

“He’s not taking it well,” said Alex. “He’s been drinking a lot and when I left, he’d been passed out for a while.”

“Fuck me,” said Olive. “All this shit’s been going on under our noses?”

I ignored that. “How did this start?”

“Everything around Tyrion Lannister’s kidnapping,” said Alex. “Eddard Stark wanted to explain why this happened before they went there, and he wanted Petyr to be his witness, but when Petyr didn’t pitch up, he knew there was something wrong. So he told the king what he did know: That someone tried to kill his son, Bran, that they used a Vallary steel knife or something—”

“Valyrian steel,” said Gerrard. “It would be quite rare.”

“Thanks,” said Alex. “Only, the king said the knife was his and he’d lost it. Which meant that Petyr had lied, that he was either stirring the pot or _he_ was the one responsible for all of this.”

“How does the last Hand’s death fit into all of this?” I said.

“Because of something he knew that the Lannisters didn’t want to get out,” said Alex. “Eddard doesn’t know what, but the king’s second brother, Stannis, very well knows and Eddard sent out a decree calling Stannis back from dragon island.”

“Dragonstone,” Gerrard corrected.

“Fuck!” said Olive. “Just remembered that I checked out the dragon bones and dragons _are_ real.”

“Could you be serious just for one second?” said Ava. “All of this bad stuff is happening and you’re just joking around.”

“Thirty seconds,” I said, cutting Olive off before she could say something. “Silence, we calm down and then we talk.”

I waited, stretching out the thirty seconds as I considered everything, trying my best to get a sense of the ripple from everything. If it was true, and the Lannisters really did kill Jon Arryn, then King Robert would kill them. Everything else be damned. That had to be the reason why Eddard Stark was keeping him in his room.

If that happened, then Tywin Lannister might respond in force and that would mean war.

 _This is so much bigger than us,_ I thought. _All this shit._

Thirty seconds passed and no one said anything, letting me be the first to speak. I didn’t, stretching out thirty more seconds.

This was just _so_ much bigger than us. So big that we were forgotten in its shadow. But this would affect _everyone_ and even if we weren’t supposed to be involved, I couldn’t just let us let this play out.

“Varys,” I said, my mind hitting on target. “He’s a spymaster, what does he know?”

“He doesn’t know where Petyr is,” said Alex.

“Did you believe that?” I asked.

“No,” said Alex. “He says his little birds are in the air, looking for him in the city. But he’s had most of the night to leave. The gates are closed and people coming in and out are being checked but they weren’t being last night; ships aren’t docking or leaving, but last night there was ample opportunity. Petyr has a _lot_ of friends, ones that could be hiding him or ones that would have helped him leave.”

“Do we think he’d leave?” I asked. “You’re the one who’s really talked to him?”

“Just chatting,” said Alex. “Him, Varys and Renly are friends. The way they talked, they _like_ each other. It’s why I don’t believe Varys. But I only had a few conversations with all of them.”

“Why do we care about all this anyway?” said Olive. “We don’t get involved.”

“That’s a lie and we all know it,” I said. “There’s going to be blow back, a lot of people are going to get hurt and if we can help it, we _have_ to. It’s the curse of being a hero.”

“But shit like _this?_ _”_ said Olive. “How would we even help that? This is just so…much bigger than anything we’ve ever dealt with. The Endbringers are faster and stronger, but they’re simple. Punch them really hard or keep people safe. We can’t punch this.”

Alex gave small nod.

_You think the same thing, huh? But why didn_ _’t you say anything. If we just left, what would you say? Would you try to deal with all of this on your own?_

I’d never really liked the parahuman course work. It had felt like busy work when I wouldn’t be dealing with the theoretical parts of being a cape, and instead fighting people. But some lessons had stuck and I knew the one that every expert agreed on: Triggers usually happened to isolated people, loners, and most loners preferred to deal with shit on their own instead of reaching out.

As I thought back, I couldn’t help but see the same thing from Alex, from Taylor when I was thinking about it, and maybe from me too. I felt like I wasn’t holding my own, like I wasn’t being the best leader and instead of talking to Everett or Taylor, I’d let it fester.

Was he dealing with the same thing?

Was Ava dealing with the same thing? Was that why she was staying?

_Getting distracted. It_ _’s been a long day and my mind’s all over the place._

“We sleep on it,” I said. “Ava, go to the princess and take your armour. Protect her if it’s needed. I’ll…” I looked at Alex. _“We’ll_ talk, discuss everything and come up with options. Al, if you can, keep an eye on them. Keep us updated.”

We broke apart for the night.

£

“Kathy!”

I was immediately awake, pulling myself free from Barden while my perception picked up to see Alex standing in the middle of the room, his brow covered in sweat and his breathing hard; his clothes were dirtied, his boots muddy and there was a wild look in his eyes.

“Alex, what—?”

“Get dressed. I’m waking the others. You guys are leaving right now before the gates are closed,” he said.

“I don’t understand. What—”

He’d already disappeared.

I quickly moved, getting dressed. Barden’s eyes were wild as he did the same, neither of us talking. I rushed out of our room, down the stairs just in time to see that the others were up. Our people were getting dressed: Gerrard and Merwyn were dressed in mail plate, their swords at their sides. Olive, with mussed her and confused eyes was dressed in her costume.

 _She_ _’s more in gear than I am._ But then, very likely that Weaver’s orders were running through her head.

“Do you know what’s going on?” I asked.

“Alex didn’t say anything,” she said.

It was the early hours of the morning, so much so that the sun still hadn’t risen. I caught sight on the ground floor, shadows already moving. I moved to a window and jumped, pushing my invulnerability to my legs as I landed.

I spotted Alex, waking people up and telling them to pack up what they could. Children looked shocked by the awakening, others already crying and being kept silent by stricken parents. Men and women looked confused, with the men putting up a facade that they knew what was going on. Our borrowed knights were already up, swords at their sides, others wearing leather armour.

“Alex!” I said. He turned. “Explain. What the fuck is going on?”

“King Robert’s gone crazy,” he said. “I fell asleep. I still don’t know everything, but he’s trying to kill his kids.”

“Ava?” I said, my stomach sinking. I’d expected that this was him trying to kill _us,_ that he’d gotten tired of playing the subtle game. But _this?_

“She’s with the kids.”

“Eddard Stark?”

“He was knocked out. Locked in the king’s bedroom with Vary and Petyr,” said Alex, getting closer, his voice getting into a whisper. “I don’t know,” he said and guilt flooded his words. “I thought I was just closing my eyes for a few minutes, taking a power nap and then everything changed. Something happened and I don’t know what. The king’s room doesn’t have walls—”

“It’s not your fault,” I said. “Ava’s fine?”

“They’re in the tunnel,” he said. “I’d better go in. Make sure they aren’t lost.”

He disappeared as Olive arrived, her minions starting to move. I looked up at Maegor’s Holdfast and my stomach sunk. What the fuck had happened and how did _this_ fit in? How could so much have been happening that I’d missed? But then, I’d been focusing on us and our role here which meant I’d missed everything else.

People continued to wake up, stricken expressions as they looked at me for leadership. There were _so_ many people, most civilians but there were also the borrowed knights. I was all at once _so_ aware that they weren’t our people and they could stab us in the back at the worst of time.

“My lady,” said Gerrard. “What are we to do? Will everyone be leaving with us?”

“I don’t fucking know,” I muttered. Alex had told us _we_ _’d_ be leaving but he hadn’t really given time to explain.

“My lady!” said one knight. He stood guard at the gate into our compound. A reasonably short wall with space for a few guards. “A regiment of soldiers approaches.”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I muttered.

_This is all wrong. This is shit. This will get us more involved than anything we could ever do._

_But what choice is there? The king is trying to kill his kids? In no world can that be excused. In no world is there_ reason _for that to happen._

“By order of King Robert Baratheon, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and the Protector of the Realm, you are ordered to open these gates and gives us the Princes Joffrey and Tommen, and Princess Myrcella. Not doing so will be considered treason.”

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

I spotted motion, a knight unsheathing his sword and lunging forward. I acted first, moving to push them back, but Barden had reach; his arms disappeared and the sword was struck free from the knight’s hands. The earth stirred as Barden’s invisible arms touched it, and for a second there was clear sign of the trajectory of his arms as he pulled them up. Blood sprayed and the knight stumbled back, his hands going to his unarmoured face, hiding his screaming.

People screamed, hands going to mouths as they got their distance.

The knight wasn’t alone, others had pulled free their swords, but they weren’t moving forward.

Gerrard and Merwyn’s swords were out, but they had their backs to us, prepared to fend off some of the knights. Olive’s cows bucked, moving to flank the borrowed knights, all while her metal man loomed beside her.

“You fuckers are stupid if you think you can take us,” said Olive.

“You’re not gods,” a knight said. “You’re only children with strange magic.” He swallowed. “You bleed just as any of us. You eat and you sweat and you shit just like us. We—”

I jumped u, over our people and landed in their midst, all of them stumbling back to get out of my way. One swung a sword and I caught it, wrenched it free and struck him with the hilt. I heard footsteps and moved my invulnerability to my back. The sword slashed as there was no damage, I swivelled, hitting three more knights with the side of the sword, sickly cracks reverberating and one struggling to get up.

The rest moved back and moved again as one of the cows stampeded forward. One caught a knight at the back, horns digging in before the head shook, throwing the man away.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._

_This is supposed to be a threat. It isn_ _’t supposed to be about killing._

But blood was already being spilled. Olive joined the fray with her minions and she didn’t hold back. One metal man grabbed a knight and threw him a few feet into the air. The man landed hard enough he struggled to get up. A cow speared through another, getting stuck in the man’s armour before flailing its head and throwing him away.

“Yield!” I said.

There weren’t all that many still standing, but people stopped trying to get to their feet.

“Watch these guys,” I said. “I’m going to take care of the people outside.”

“Give ‘em hell,” said Olive.

I scaled up the walls as quickly as I could and sped up my perception to see the soldiers. They were gold cloaks, carrying swords and some with spears. No archers, which made things a little easier. I heard something behind me, the sound of the wall being chipped away. I looked and I spotted Barden scaling up.

“I’m not going to let you fight alone,” he said, his face was set.

“This is going to be dangerous,” I said.

“I’d give my life for you,” he said.

A hand at his cheek and a kiss.

“I think I might love you,” I said, pulling back. His face erupted in a massive grin. “Don’t die on me.”

“I won’t,” he said.

I lunged while he hopped over the wall, his hands disappearing and lines drawing themselves on the wall to slow his fall. I landed with a crash and a crater, the people closest to me toppled, falling inward; I lunged before they could course correct, invulnerability going to a knee that speared out. I caught two men, sent them toppling back before I rolled to a stand.

A sword came at me and I moved under it, invulnerability going to my shoulder as I speared forward. The man was taken off his feet, bowling three others over. I spun, leg extended and invulnerable, and kicked through spears that had been stabbing at me.

Barden reached the ground and came running, his arms still invisible. He struck, armour screeching and swords tearing free; spears broke and splinters were pushed in every direction. The cluster of soldiers still on their feet spread apart, trying to close around him.

Barden spun, clumps of dirt stirring up and being thrown free, hitting the men and blinding a few.

I jumped and spun as a man came for me, kicking him so hard he slammed into the ground side first. I landed, sidestepped a spear and caught in with one hand, breaking it with the other. I threw and the spear tip shattered as it hit a man in the face, blinding him with wooden splinters.

Barden moved back as a man came for him, a rock was pulled free from the ground and sent flying too wide. The man slashed and the sword bounced off Barden’s invisible arms. Lines drew themselves on the man’s armour, then he was sent spinning through the air, landing badly and not moving at all.

The gates opened and cows moved out, rolling through the remaining soldiers.

An invisible force moved through the crowd, wrenching free weapons and moving them with its ghostly hand through the air. The weapons smashed into each other, wooden staffs shattering and metal bending under the onslaught. The bigger cows came out, carrying people, but not all our people. There were far less than had been planning to leave. I spotted the Baratheon kids, wide eyed and with tears in their eyes. Joffrey had a large bump on his head and all of them were caked with mud. Ava was sitting with them, wearing metal armour that had blood in places. I saw strands of her hair, matted together by the blood, there were lines all through her armour.

All the weapons fell into a pile and Alex appeared.

Looking at his expression, I knew what he was going to say.

“I’m not leaving,” he said.

“Fucking _why?_ _”_ I said. “The man tried to kill his kids. We should be out of here.”

“Because _war,_ _”_ he said. “Because of all the shit that’ll happen and how everything will go to shit if we don’t try to steer the ship. I’ll talk to Eddard and _hopefully_ we can make sure the king doesn’t do anything stupid. Until then, you guys keep them safe.”

I moved forward, giving him a hug. “You’re one of the bravest fucking people I know.”

He smiled. “We do what we have to,” he said. “I’d like to go with you guys, make sure you get out okay, but I have to go to Eddard. Make sure he’s okay, that he can _do_ something about all this. If not, maybe talk to Renly so he can talk down his brother.”

“Our mother,” said Joffrey. “He said he’d kill her.”

Alex sighed and nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Stay safe,” I said.

“You too,” said Alex. He disappeared.

“Let’s move!”

There were no wagons, meaning a lot of the metal and dyes we’d bought we’d left behind; thankfully we’d had the blacksmith tools in the large cows, which clunked loudly as Olive ran the cows as fast as they could with the passengers.

We quickly reached the gates leading out of the Red Keep, closed and with ten guards at the base, while five more stood at the walls, archers ready with their bows and arrows.

Cuff and I needed no words. We were up and lunging through the air. Cuff had a sword and she threw it as men and women notched bows, pulled and prepared to fire. They’d spread out and Cuff only hit one, the sword caving the man’s armour and forcing him back.

Arrows flew and I moved invulnerability, grabbing the arrows that flew close and throwing them back. It wasn’t neat and a few I missed, but I forced the archers to hide behind crenellations before they could reload.

I moved my invulnerability to my hands, punching into the wall and starting to climb up, shifting my invulnerability as the archers peered over the walls and started raining down arrows. Cuff landed higher, climbing faster because her powers were simpler, arrows just bounced off her without denting the armour. No need to reorient her focus.

She reached the top and I heard a scream. On the ground I heard the start of screams. When I peered down there was carnage: Metal men and cows free of riders moving through the crowd, horns spearing into armour while the metal men swung grabbed swords without technique. Our people and the kids were hidden behind the larger cows.

I reached the top to find that Cuff had already taken care of all the archers.

We walked the width of the wall, just as the doors opened, no doubt under Romp’s power. We shared a look and jumped down a few stories, landing hard enough to dent the earth.

“Told you they’d do it,” said Romp, a cackle in her breath.

“Let’s keep moving,” I said. “We don’t want any more archers. Which gate is the best?” I heard no answer. _“Joffrey.”_

“The—” He stopped, cleared his throat. “The clearest path is to the Gate of the Gods. But the Lion’s gate will take us to Casterly Rock faster. We could get lost though; the path isn’t as clear.”

“We’re not headed to Casterly Rock,” I said.

“Grandfather will be the one most able to protect us,” said Joffrey.

“That’s not the only consideration,” I said. My mind was racing, stretching time, my eyes picking up minute detail and processing. There was a lot I didn’t know, but one thing I wanted to make sure was that there wasn’t war in every direction. “We’re going to Riverrun, to your uncle Tyrion. We’ll deal with _that_ first and then we’ll deal with you.”

“Uncle Tyrion?” said Joffrey. “Why him? What’s going on?”

“A lot of shit,” said Romp. “I know you just almost died. But you _gotta_ keep a cool head and let it brush off you. Keep your head pointed forward and _fight_ to survive. Everything else’ll come later.”

“Your uncle was framed,” I said. “But he’s one of the known hot button issues right now. _This,_ it can still be fixed, but that’s a greater problem.”

“There’s clout mixed up with all of that,” said Romp. “Your grandfather’s gonna want to come at the Starks or the Tullys or whatever and that’s just gonna be bad for everyone.”

I took a second, surprised at Romp besides myself.

“Yeah,” I said. “That. We need to tamp that down; tell everyone all the shit we know and _hope_ that that’s held back until shit’s dealt with here.”

“What about mother?” said Myrcella. “The Yellow Knight caught her.”

I looked at Ava.

“Olly,” she said. “He gave me trouble. His Vallary steel sword cut through mine like it was butter. I tried to move it and it didn’t work. His power cuts off mine. I managed to beat him back, but there were more people attacking the queen’s chambers and I couldn’t take her _and_ the kids.”

“Is mommy going to be okay?” Tommen sobbed, looking up from Myrcella’s side.

“Yes,” Myrcella whispered, the words almost lost against the clatter of metal hooves. “Everything will be well. Mother will be fine.”

The gates had been closed from yesterday and they were still closed. There were guards at the foot, but it didn’t seem they’d heard about the king going batshit.

“Grace,” said Cuff. I turned back and spotted yellow light in the distance. Olly, running at full tilt behind us, carrying a sword and shield. He was far back, but with how fast he was moving, he’d catch up.

 _Trump,_ my mind filled in, _almost like Dauntless but not as versatile. He_ _’s strong, fast and agile, his sword is sharper and tougher than usual. But he isn’t skilled and he gets frustrated if he doesn’t have the upper hand. He’s a bad student because he doesn’t want to learn._

“I’ll take care of him,” I said. “Get the gates open. I’ll catch up.”

I stood on the back of my cow and lunged, landing in a roll and coming up already running, pushing strength into my legs to take longer strides. I reached him in less than a minute and I didn’t slow. He came sliding to a stop, his shield coming up. I was already in the air, invulnerability in my legs in preparation of a kick.

A clang ripped through the air as knee and shield met. I felt the buckle but this wasn’t like when we’d first fought. He was expecting it now and he’d braced. He pushed back and I let him, flipping back and landing, sliding back.

He came forward, shield pulled back and his sword swinging. I caught it with one hand and pulled it free, the light flickered out but he didn’t care, he wasn’t surprised. He dashed forward and kicked. His foot landed just after I’d shifted invulnerability and I was kicked off my feet, the sword slicing through my hand and slipping back in the motion.

I kept my wits about me, my perception as fast as it could and I was shifting so that I’d land feet first. He was already dashing forward again, his shield held out in front of him. All the better to bash me with.

Invulnerability went to my legs to land then just a quickly to my right hand. I threw forward a punch and his forward momentum sputtered to a stop. My left hand went up to grab the lip of the shield and I hissed, the cut was deep, _fierce,_ but I pushed through it. I started to pull and he pulled back, just the leverage I needed to pull myself up.

I flipped through the air, leg ready to catch him in the back, but he twisted around, using his shield to block my kick. I landed and it was awkward. He moved to kick and I ducked under it, rolling away to get my distance.

I got up, breathing a little hard, the pain in my hand throbbing.

_Note to self, stop grabbing swords._

“This isn’t the skill you had when we were training,” I said.

“You’re predictable, my lady,” he said. “And Ser Barristan told me to hold back before you.” He held his only his shield, a large thing swathed in yellow light.

_Have to wonder if you_ _’ve been playing us, Olly. If all of this is playing at incompetence for some reason._

It had only been a matter of days and he’d already grown _so_ much in skill. Had he been lulling us into a false sense of security? Was he playing some greater game?

“Am I?” my mouth said, because a larger part of me hadn’t let go of the insult.

He nodded. “I’ve been able to predict every move you’ve made so far. You’re better skilled than I, that I grant, but I’m winning.”

I grinned. “Okay,” I said and took a breath.

Perception faster, I moved forward. He brought up his shield and I slid under, leg coming up to sweep his feet out from under him. He stumbled back, shield going wide to regain his balance and I was already up, flying at him with a kick. He brought up his shield, the clang reverberating just before he fell, off balance.

I landed in a roll, twisted around and came at him at a run. He moved to get up, awkward in his armour, and I was already at his side. Invulnerability to my leg, I kicked, sending him spinning and crashing into a wall. I ran at him again before he could reel, both feet out as I lunged. I hit his chest armour and he was sent _through_ the wall. I used his body as leverage to push myself back, rolling through the air before I landed.

Aches and pains moved through me, my lungs burning and my brow lined with sweat. All through it, my hand still throbbed, though the blood had started to crust over.

Olly got up and I didn’t get the sense that he was any worse for wear.

 _Armour_ _’s protecting him,_ I thought. _You_ _’re not really hurting him. You’re just hitting his armour._

 _Not a trump but a_ brute.

_How do you fight a brute?_

_You don_ _’t._

I didn’t like it, not one bit, but I turned and ran.

The gates were already opened and it didn’t make sense to keep the others waiting. The sound of a booming laughter almost made me stop, almost made me turn and clock the guy. But that would have been stupid and I couldn’t be stupid. The ranks could be stupid, not the generals.

I jumped onto a cow and we took off.


	10. Chapter 10

**Wanton**

“Lord Wanton,” said Eddard Stark, too loudly. I held a finger over my mouth, my head pointing to the door. Eddard had been moved, still in the inner castle, but out of the king’s bedroom.

“People outside,” I whispered. “Have to be quiet.”

“The king,” Eddard said, voice a panicked whisper. “Last we spoke he wanted to kill the children. Joffrey, My—”

“I saved them. Joffrey took a hit but he’s fine now,” I said. “I gave them to Grace and the others. They should be out of the city by now.”

Eddard let out a breath, moving to the edge of his bed and taking a seat. His head pitched down, one hand rubbing at his temple.

“Thank the gods,” he muttered. “Robert…I’ve only seen him once like this. I didn’t think he could…”

“What happened?” I asked.

He looked up, his expression becoming a mask. “You were spying on us,” he said.

“Yeah,” I said and shrugged, “and it’s a good thing too or I wouldn’t have been able to save those kids.”

“How am I to trust that you are an ally, then?” he asked. “If you are just as duplicitous as everyone else in this gods forsaken city?”

That stung, especially when I couldn’t think about what to say. It _was_ screwy that we’d been spying on them, but we hadn’t really had a choice when there was so much unknown. Being here, especially with how these people _were,_ opened the possibility that they could just decide the smart thing was to kill us, and when that was a possibility, there was no option than to take steps to avoid it.

But would that make Eddard feel better?

It didn’t matter, did it. It was the truth.

“Honestly,” I said. “I didn’t trust you. I still don’t trust most of you because I don’t know you. But _you_ _’re_ better than King Robert, who was going to kill his own kids; Varys, who’s a mastermind without the powers; and Petyr, who somehow managed to point the king at the queen’s family when he was a fugitive yesterday. The only other person I trust more than you is Renly and right now he’s too close to all of this.”

My mind flickered back to the tourney, when each of the three had been talking about who was the most powerful between them. They were friends and I couldn’t overlook the fact that they could be working together in whatever this was.

 _This is too complicated,_ a part of me thought, and I could feel fatigue wrapped around it. The thought and the emotions wouldn’t do me any good so I pushed them away.

“Let’s work together,” I said, the fatigue lacing into my voice. “Because a lot of shit is starting to hit the fan and if we don’t do anything about it, we’re going to be in the shitter.”

Eddard gave me a long look before he nodded.

“The kids aren’t Robert’s,” he said. “Cersei has been having an affair with her brother, Jamie Lannister.”

“Fuck,” I said, of everything I’d thought, _that_ hadn’t been it. “And that’s above you thinking the Lannisters killed your father?”

“Lord Arryn,” said Eddard, his tone hard and his expression distrustful. “How much do you know?”

“Bits and pieces,” I said. I moved over to a long chair without a backrest and sat heavily. I ran a hand through my hair and it came back with dirt. I became aware for the first time I was covered in muck. I’d been using my breaker state so much over the last few hours that I’d started to take more strain. Back in the tunnels I’d had to walk around in human form to rest. I’d fallen more than once. “We thought you were after us and we wanted to know so we could get out if we needed to.”

“And what is it you know?” Eddard asked.

“That you suspect the Lannisters killed Lord Arryn,” I said. “That Petyr tried to kill your son with a Vallary steel knife—”

“Valyrian steel,” he corrected.

“Whatever,” I said. “That you suspected something and you called the other king’s brother to come here.”

Eddard nodded slowly. “We received word from Lord Arryn’s wife,” he said, “and my wife’s sister, that Jon’s death was not of old age. She suspected the Lannisters. On coming here, Littlefinger confirmed it, said the knife used in the attempt belonged to Tyrion Lannister, but when I asked he serve as witness he ran.”

I knew that part. I couldn’t understand how we had gotten _here._

“Tonight,” Eddard continued, “Littlefinger appeared in the company of Varys and five others, all of them Robert’s bastard children. As Littlefinger explained it, he’d long known of the queen’s indiscretion but couldn’t say on threat of death.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” I said. “Why did he lie to you about the knife then?”

“As he explains it,” he said. “Cersei has long wanted the Imp dead and this was opportunity to get that done. The order didn’t come from Cersei herself, but Littlefinger explains that he knows her well and knew what she would ask for. He wanted to garner favour so it might stay his execution.”

“He didn’t ask for help,” I said, hand going to my beard. It was becoming fuller. It was a pity there weren’t good barbers because a good trim would do me good.

 _Focus,_ I thought, but my mind felt groggy. I was tired and hungry and I was starting to feel the effects. I wanted nothing more than a hot shower, sleep on a comfy bed with soft sheets, and maybe some _empanada_ the way Mom loved to make it. 

“I had no time to ask those questions,” he said. “Robert is angry. To find out that his children aren’t his own, that the woman he married killed the man who was a father to him? He acted on impulse.”

“Going straight to _killing_ his kids?” I said, my voice hollow.

“Robert has a warrior’s heart,” said Eddard.

I shook my head, my expression twisting. “The worst thing you can do is make excuses for him,” I said. “What he’s doing is _evil,_ no matter if those kids are his or not. It isn’t like they asked to be born, it’s not like they told their mother and father to…”

My stomach twisted as I thought about it. Brother and sister…

Eddard didn’t say anything, expression cast with shame.

I went quiet, my mind chugging as it tried to consider everything. The others would be close to leaving the city by now if nothing bad happened along the way. I was alone now, everyone who hadn’t fought against us had left with the others, even Merwyn had left because it was safer than being an ally.

“What now?” I asked. “I…I want to help, but this is too big and complicated, and… _fuck._ _”_

Eddard stood, walked close and put a hand on my shoulder. It reminded me of Dad when I’d still been into baseball, after we’d lost a game by a margin. Things hadn’t been good for long after that. He’d found out about me and that had put a distance between us.

“Cersei and Jamie,” he said. “Are they still alive?”

I shrugged. “Cuff fought Olly and she was hurt. I decided to protect them and lead them to the others instead of going to the queen.”

“If Cersei’s dead, then Lord Tywin will retaliate,” he said. “Robert is the rightful king and the other lords will rally to him. However Lord Tywin has influence and gold. If Robert just killed two of his children, while my house went after the third. It will look coordinated, as if we wanted to end House Lannister.”

“How do we _stop_ it?” I asked.

“You say that as if I would have a magical solution,” said Eddard, a bit of irritation leaking into his tone. “This is a complex matter, made all the worse by the likes of Varys and Littlefinger whose motives I still can’t—”

There was sound from outside and I turned breaker. The door opened a moment later, showing the men in armour, men of the Kingsguard and King Robert who was still red-faced.

“I heard voices,” he said.

“You’ve locked me here,” said Eddard. “My head throbbing after you beat me. Is it odd that I speak to ghosts?”

“Ghosts of the dead or godly ghosts?” he said, mouth twisted in a frown. “They’re all gone and they took the Lannister spawn.”

Eddard couldn’t act to save his life. He clenched his jaw and nodded.

“That’s good,” he said.

“Good?” Robert said. He took quick step forward. He was taller than Eddard, his face pink and blotchy, but even so he was intimidating. Eddard stood his ground, staring Robert straight in the eyes. “You know what they did, the lies they told. They killed _Jon,_ Ned.”

Eddard’s mouth became a line.

“They deserve death the lot of them,” Robert continued.

“The children too?” said Eddard. “Innocent children that had no control over the act that brought them into this world?”

Robert’s expression went wide, flustered before it twisted again.

“You are my Hand, Ned,” he said. “Your duty is to serve me—”

“My duty is to offer you advice!” Eddard interrupted. “And not killing _your_ children—”

“That spawn isn’t mine!”

“They are children _you_ raised!” Eddard counted. “Just as Jon—” He stopped, shock writing itself of his features before he stopped, took a breath and let it out. “Cersei and Jaime. Do they still live?”

“Would you have me free them too?” he said. “Not kill them when they killed Jon? When they _played_ me for a fool? Committed atrocities in my own castle?”

“I would have you hold a trial,” said Eddard. “Show the lords and ladies of the Seven Kingdoms that you haven’t become Aerys reborn—”

“Watch your tongue, Ned,” said Robert. “Remember I’m still your king.”

“You’re my friend, my _brother,_ before you’re my king,” Eddard counted. “I hope _you_ have not forgotten.”

Robert went silent.

“Hold a trial, put their crimes before them, before Lord Tywin so he cannot call his host to stand against you. Remember, there are many that were loyal to the Targaryens and they would use this as an excuse to usurp your rule.”

“Then I’d end them just as I would end Tywin if he stood against me,” Robert said, standing taller. “Matter of fact, if Littlefinger and the eunuch are anything to go by, it might be better than I took Tywin’s lands and gave them to someone loyal.”

“For gold? To absolve yourself of their debt?”

“For my kingdom!” Robert countered.

Eddard stood straight. “One is a path of honour,” he said, “and the other is a path that will serve your best interests. What man are you? Are you the Robert I grew up with, or has this city turned you into something else?”

Robert didn’t say anything, he turned and left, the doors closing behind him. Eddard took a heavy seat and I turned human again, relieved that I didn’t have to bear the brunt of the fatigue.

“Do you think he’ll listen?” I asked.

“I hope so,” said Eddard. “But I worry that more than I, Varys and Littlefinger hold his ear, now.”

“I’m going to follow him,” I said. “Get a sense of things and plans. I’ll come back and we’ll meet, think about a way forward?”

Eddard nodded, but he looked adrift.

I turned breaker and moved under the door, spreading out along the hallway. We hadn’t been talking long and King Robert was still in my range. I went ahead of him, then rode up to the rafters, turning human again to catch my metaphorical breath before I went after them.

Varys and Littlefinger were being guarded too, but they were in a large drawing room. The two were silent as I entered, keeping a large distance between them. The doors quickly opened and Robert stepped in.

Both stood.

“You were right,” he said. He didn’t stop moving, going from one end of the room to another. “He told me not to kill them.”

“Lord Stark is an honourable man,” said Petyr. “And honourable men can be predictable.”

“The price they pay,” said Varys. “But there is reward in honour. If people found you weren’t listening to him, then their opinion of you might change.”

“He worries of Targaryen loyalists,” said King Robert.

“A sane worry,” said Varys. “Especially when a Targaryen spawn grows in the belly of Daenerys Targaryen. A union between Viserys and the Dothraki. If the child were to meet an untimely end, as these things happened to—”

“Stop,” said Robert, his words fierce. “Don’t finish those words. He wants to hold a trial. Ned does. He says that’ll stop people from flocking to Tywin’s cause.”

“He’s right,” said Petyr. “I admit I’m surprised that the particular bout of insight came from him.”

“Honour does not mean stupidity, Lord Baelish,” said Varys. “That is an error many a man have made at their folly.”

The two shared a look that was missed by Robert.

“By morning the city will know of the happenings in the city,” said Varys. “It would be in our best interest to have town criers out delivering word, to lay the charges the queen—”

“Don’t call her that,” Robert snapped.

“That Cersei and Jaimie Lannister have been accused of,” Varys corrected smoothly. “We should also send out word to as many people as we can, so that the charges may be known and that Lord Tywin has no recourse.”

Robert nodded. “Do that,” he said. “Do it quickly. The faster I have their heads on spikes, the better.”

“Something else, Your Grace,” said Varys. “Grand Maester Pycelle, he sent out three ravens tonight. One of my birds intercepted one and it was addressed to Lord Tywin Lannister.”

“No cells for him,” said Robert. _“Kill_ him and put his head on a spike. Even a maester isn’t absolved of treason.”

“I’ll send the order at once, Your Grace,” Varys said.

“And send for Edric,” said King Robert. “I wish to have him at my side.”

“As you will, Your Grace.”

Varys moved to the door and he wasn’t stopped. Petyr didn’t do the same, he only watched Varys longingly.

A clang of armour rang into my range, a few moments before Olly stepped in, his armour empowered by his yellow energy. He bent to a knee.

“They escaped, Your Grace,” he said, head down. Relief surged through me. “I fought Lady Grace and I bested her, cut her hand with my sword and forced her to run when she yearned to defeat me.”

“Were all of them there?” Varys’ voice drifted into my range. I pushed myself out, to cover more distance but it was too much of a strain when I’d been using my powers on an off for the past few hours.

“Lord Wanton was not there,” said Olly. “If he were, I fear I might not have been able to best Lady Grace.”

“Worrying,” Varys said.

He would be going to send the order that Grand Maester Pycelle be killed and I had the power to act. I had the power to get there and make him leave, but that would be political in nature and it could mean people not listening to me in other issues.

 _What political pull do you have in the first place?_ I thought, but that wasn’t the point. It couldn’t look like we were on Tywin Lannister’s side because that would be trouble for the others, and I couldn’t do that to them.

But a man would still have to die.

Was the sacrifice worth it?

Everett would say no, and so would Kathy, Ava and Theo. Taylor would look at the long term, look at all the politics and do something that was best for her mission. Olive would want to do what’s good and would want to end this with a fight, and Kirk…I didn’t know him well enough to know what he’d want.

But what would _I_ do?

What decision would _I_ live with, because that was the most important thing. Would it be knowing I could have saved this man and done nothing, or saving him and facing the consequences?

_What do I want?_

_What should I do?_

_I have to save Pycelle._

⸎

The castle could be confusing, especially since I didn’t know all of its corners and Varys had ways of quickly getting around. Even so I found the Grand Maester’s room before Varys and his people, convinced the man that he would be killed if he didn’t accept my help and now the two of us were outside the castle, Pycelle dressed in ugly robes as we walked down the empty streets.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to get you out of here without making a scene,” I said, tired and hungry, feeling hollowed out.

“You have honoured me with your generosity,” Pycelle said, his voice wheezy. We’d been walking for the better part of an hour to get out of the castle. I’d woken him from his sleep and he would be equally tired. “You have already done much for this old man.”

 _Even if it ruins everything else,_ the thought passed through my mind. I pushed it away, focusing instead on the future. I hadn’t really thought this through. I’d wanted to save Pycelle, but he was still in King’s Landing, where Varys had spies and the king had his soldiers. Pycelle had to get out to be safe.

_But that_ _’s a political move. Saving him means I’m working with the Lannisters. The king won’t like it and there won’t be peace between him and the rest of us._

“You have to have friends around here,” I said. “A place where you can lay low.”

“The Great Sept of Baelor,” he said. “The High Septon should offer me aid.”

I nodded, my eyes roving around as I walked. It was a long walk, especially when we’d have to climb Visenya’s Hill to get to the Great Sept. But we walked, keeping our pace slow to account for Pycelle’s old age.

“An inn, my lord,” said the Maester, his voice fatigued. “I have gold. Perhaps we can ask for room and board.”

“Won’t they know who you are?” I asked.

“The smallfolk rarely know the faces of those who govern,” said Pycelle. “And by tomorrow I will have trimmed my beard so that I may better hide.”

We got in, waking up the custodian for a room. Her tone was harsh as she told us she wouldn’t serve us food, but we didn’t mind. She offered us a room with two beds. I moved the bed on getting there, turning breaker to put it against the door so it would drop if someone tried to come in; the window we tied with rope connected to Pycelle’s chains, it too would make a noise if it was moved.

I slept on the floor, on a mound of blankets, but I didn’t mind, happy for the rest. It felt like a blink before the bright rays of the morning sun slipped through the cracks of the boards in our windows. I got up, fixed the bed and woke up Pycelle. He asked for shears and some water and cut his beard, and we were more confident as we went downstairs for breakfast.

I wasn’t the most refreshed I’d ever been, but I felt better than I had in a while. We found a place close to the door, watching as patrons awoke for the morning, many expecting their breakfast. We were the earliest risers and we were served first.

“You’re Tywin Lannister’s man,” I said, keeping my voice low. The place was cramped but there was noise, people speaking in high tones. There were others who came in, sharing stories of last night’s activity, loud noises and something about the gods trying to take the crown.

Pycelle’s eyes opened wide.

“Don’t lie to me,” I said. “If you do, then…” I swallowed. “I stop this now. It’s risky to help you and it doesn’t get me anything. I’ll just stop.”

 _‘Are you doing this because you actually care,’_ a past me said to Kathy. _‘Or is it just politics?’_

She’d been trying to help outlaws and I’d thought she’d been too influenced by Weaver. Yet here I was now, doing something that was Weaver-like. Actually _thinking_ about leaving this man to die because of political ends.

 _Hypocrite,_ I thought, even though I didn’t find something wrong with _this,_ the move.

“Y-yes,” said Pycelle, his voice shaky. There was a bowl of broth in front of him with chunks of meat, freshly baked bread beside it and a pitcher of warm wine. Pycelle took the wine, the wooden pitcher shaking in his hands, and he gulped it down. “Lord Tywin and I share a long relationship. We knew each other from his time as Hand.”

“You send him messages and he tells you what to do?” I asked.

“He—he asked me to take care of his children,” said Pycelle. “Queen Cersei has no friends in King’s Landing, and I was to be one for her. Offer her any information she found useful.”

“So you told him what happened?” I asked. “That Robert has her in jail?”

“Jail, my lord?”

“Captured,” I said, a bit irritated. At him, at me, at everything. “Imprisoned.”

“Captured?” said Pycelle, surprised. “I’d heard that he was to kill her.”

 _Fuck._ “You told Tywin that his daughter’s dead?” I said, my voice going up an octave.

“Yes,” said Pycelle. “I—I had to warn him. Espec—” Pycelle stopped, looking up at me with wide eyes.

“Especially what?”

Pycelle didn’t move.

“Say something or I take you back to the castle,” I said, pushing my irritation into the words. I didn’t think I could do it and I _hoped_ that he wouldn’t call my bluff, but if he did…

Pycelle still said nothing.

I swallowed.

I started to rise.

“Lord Tywin is out of Casterly Rock,” Pycelle whispered, his head down. “I told Sers Jaime and Gregor that Lord Tywin has moved with a host, heading into the Riverlands. Ser Gregor had word to leave King’s Landing and join the host, while Ser Jaime was to stay behind, to convince King Robert to act against Lord Stark’s wife.”

“What did he say about us?” I asked. A sinking feeling engulfed me. If anyone attacked the Riverlands then it would force the others to act in one way or another. Sure, Tecton had said we shouldn’t get involved, but if anyone was hurt, sure as hell we’d be there.

“He—” Pycelle stopped and cleared his throat. “He asked that I tell him all I could of your abilities, your dispositions. That was the last word he spoke to me.”

I nodded, sitting back down. “Eat up. I’ll get you to the sept before heading back to the castle. I don’t know if you have any pull. But find a way to tell Tywin that his children are still alive, and that Robert’s going to hold a trial. And for god’s sake tell him to stop whatever the fuck he’s doing in the Riverlands.”

“O-of course, my lord,” said Pycelle.

We left after breakfast, going down the long street that extended the King’s Road. We reached a square, large and framed by trees, filled with foot traffic and a few people standing on podiums reciting the news.

“…committed the worst of crimes in the form of the murder of the former Hand of the King, Jon Arryn, as well as adultery and incest!” said a man, dressed in bright clothes and carrying a scroll. People had stopped at the base, watching him as he spoke. “Cersei Lannister and her brother and lover, Jamie Lannister, are currently being held in the black cells! Where they will be held until such a time as trial may be held before the gods in the Great Sept of Baelor! The children of incest-spawn, Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen, are currently on the run from the king’s justice, along with the mages Grace, Wanton, Cuff, Romp and Poltergeist!”

It continued, more being said and mutterings from the audience but we had to move. The square stood at the base of Visenya’s Hill and we started our climb, ignoring the increased presence of the gold cloaks.

We found the sept open and with few people, we stepped in. We milled for long moments before eventually a woman appeared, dressed in grey with her head covered. Pycelle stepped quickly forward, flagging the woman down. They spoke quick words and the woman paled, nodded and beckoned Pycelle to follow.

I followed after them, into the deeper parts of the church, tunnels with paintings and ornate frames, iconographies of their gods. We moved into an office, large with stained glass windows at the back, wooden desks and bookcases, and surfaces filled with knickknacks. A man sat behind the desk, fat with pink cheeks and a surprised expression.

“Thank you, septa,” said the man. “You can leave us.” The moment the door closed. “Grand Maester Pycelle. You look in quite a state.”

“Troubling times,” said Pycelle. “You’ve no doubt heard the news?”

“Yes. Yes,” said the man. He looked at me. “Apologies. We haven’t the pleasure. I am the High Septon of the Faith of the Seven and who may you be?”

“A companion of mine and my protector,” said Pycelle. “A boy I picked up. He’s a mute, you see, hard of hearing too, but a deft combatant. Which makes him quite useful.”

I didn’t say anything.

“He must be quite the protector for you to employ him,” said the High Septon in whisper. “I heard news that you were to be executed, Grand Maester.”

“Machinations of the Spider,” said Pycelle. “I’ve long said he seeks to usurp both of our positions.”

“You have,” said the High Septon. “And I’ve told you that would be hard to achieve. I’m protected by higher powers, powers you’ve long doubted but it looks now as if you seek their help.”

Pycelle swallowed. “Yes. Troubled times require us to humble ourselves.”

“Quite,” said the High Septon, a smug smile on him. “You want me to go against the king’s word? Protect you when he accuses you of treason?”

“I want you to hide me,” said Pycelle. “We are friends, you and I, working towards similar goals. Unlike the Spider and Littlefinger. If you protect me, I will make sure that all of this troubling business is dealt and their influence is clear.”

The High Septon smiled. “Littlefinger would offer quite the reward if I were to bring you to him.”

“Littlefinger’s wealth pales to Lord Twyin’s, a personal friend of mine.”

“Oh,” said the High Septon. “Then you’re quite welcome to seek asylum in the Sept of Baelor.”

Pycelle turned to me. “Boy! You can leave! I’ll be quite safe here! You know of the matters we discussed!”

I turned and left. I’d be back to check on him soon, but now I could be sure that he was safe.

⸎

First thing I did was check on the part of the castle we’d lived in. The others had left some stuff there, along with the trails of blood and the mounds of weapons I’d broken. All of which were now being cleaned up. Some of our people had chosen to stay behind, but they weren’t part of the clean-up crew.

Scraps of food had also been left behind and I ate that before I got into the tunnels, moving up into Maegor’s Holdfast to find Eddard. When I got to his room, he wasn’t there. Instead of searching the entire castle, I chose to head for the Hand’s tower to wait for him.

Eddard wasn’t there, but a lot of people were and there seemed to be a riled-up energy to them. People didn’t stay still, they moved between doing one thing and onto the next. I heard mutters about maybe returning to the North before those were talked away, then there were mutterings about the queen, her children and us, everything that had happened last night.

“Lord Stark?” I heard.

“Fine,” a knight said, dressed in boring grey colours with a sword strapped at his side. “He came by this morning to talk to the girls.”

“Good,” said the other. “I can’t wait until we’re done with this place.”

“If we’ll ever be.”

Ava liked Sansa Stark and I decided to check on her. I found her in a room with another girl, both sowing a circle with pictures. Sansa’s eyes were red and her hands shaky, while the other girl looked on with sympathy. Both of them didn’t speak which made it hard to tell what was going on.

The day passed quickly and I felt the urge to move, to go into Maegor’s Keep to maybe find Varys or Petyr, but that place could be a maze and the only place I knew for sure could mean something was Varys’ room and he could be gone too.

I waited another hour before heading to Renly’s compound. I wasn’t sure _why_ I was going there. I didn’t think he’d know any more than I would. But I did. I wanted to make sure that he wasn’t part of whatever scheme Varys and Petyr were on.

His compound was beautiful, with a bush maze filled with flowers and statues. He had paintings of people in colourful clothes as well as strange castles and landscapes. People walked around, talking as if they didn’t have the slightest care in the world, gossiping between them.

But Renly also wasn’t there, just like Eddard.

I went back to the Hand’s tower and I waited well into the night until _finally_ I heard noise. I shifted into my breaker state and moved to see. Eddard had come back, going first to his girls while ordering a woman to bring him dinner.

“Is it still, so, Father?” Sansa asked, her voice shaking. “Will we go back to Winterfell?”

“Yes,” Eddard said, his voice grave. “War steadily approaches and King’s Landing will not be safe for you.”

“But it won’t be safe going up the King’s Road too,” Sansa pleaded. “Please, Father, don’t—”

“Sansa,” Eddard said and the girl stopped.

“Can Syrio come with me?” Arya asked.

“What does it matter if your _stupid_ dancing master comes!” said Sansa. “I was supposed to marry Prince Joffrey and now—”

“I told you before!” said Arya. “Joffrey isn’t a prince anymore. He’s not of royal blood.”

“You shut your mouth!” said Sansa and she moved forward, stopped by her father.

“Arya, where did you hear those words?” he said, desperate.

“I heard it near the stables while I was training,” said Arya, pride on the girl’s face. “Syrio said I had to practice being unseen and it _worked._ I stayed perfectly still and they didn’t hear me.”

“Tell her it isn’t true,” said Sansa. “Tell her.”

Eddard let out a sigh. “Your sister’s words are true,” said Eddard. “Joffrey is not the king’s true born son. He is the son of Cersei and Jamie Lannister.”

Sansa stepped back, shocked.

“And this is the reason you can longer marry him,” he continued. “It is why it is better that you are returned to Winterfell.”

That didn’t line up, at least to my thoughts. But there was probably something he knew that he wasn’t telling the girls.

“Off to bed with the both of you,” he said. “Tomorrow you will be off, Jory will take you. I will ask if Syrio is willing to go to Winterfell, but I doubt it, Arya. But fret not, I will find you another dancing master.”

“But I don’t _want_ any other,” said Arya. “I was Syrio.”

“We do not always get what we want,” said Eddard. “Now to bed. Both of you.”

He went to his room and I followed him. I waited until the food had arrived before I appeared. He turned quickly, coming up, his hand moving to his sword. He calmed when he saw that it was me.

“You’ve been gone most the day,” he said.

“Saving Pycelle,” I said. “King Robert was going to kill him.”

“As I’m to understand it Grand Maester Pycelle committed treason,” he said. “He deserves the king’s justice.”

That felt like a punch to the stomach.

“He deserves to be killed?” I asked. “His head put on a spike?”

“Yes,” said Eddard and he frowned in confusion, not disgust. That unsettled me more than anything.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “But killing someone isn’t justice, no matter their crime.”

“That is Robert’s decision to make, not yours. He’s still king of this land,” said Eddard. I opened my mouth but he cut me off. “Yes, the children did not deserve the punishment Robert thought to meet, but treason deserves a harsh hand. It is not something that can be allowed.”

I shook my head. “That’s not how thing should work,” I said.

“And yet, it is the way they _do,_ _”_ said Eddard. “Cersei and Jamie have committed a grievous offence, and they will no doubt face execution. This is a foregone conclusion. Will you spirit them away as well?”

“I…”

I stopped.

_Fuck._

_Fuck it._

_Fuck it all._

_Fuck it all to hell._

What was I supposed to say to that? That I _couldn_ _’t_ accept it?

 _But what about all the death penalties still going on in America,_ a part of me thought. _All of that happened and you didn_ _’t do anything about that._

But those weren’t things I _could_ do anything about. Here, things were different. I had power and if I spoke, people would listen.

_It_ _’s not that easy._

But I still had power. I could push the world past all the shit, shortcut everything bad and just get to the good parts. No years of intolerance before there was marginal change, no atrocities before a change in morality.

Just the end result, where things were _better._

 _It_ _’s not that easy,_ the thought came. _You_ _’d be telling a king what to do and he wouldn’t accept that, especially after you took the kids he was trying to kill, sided with the man that committed treason. There’ll be a fight because of this._

I shook my head. “Even if that’s the case,” I said and my voice was hollow. “I don’t think I could go and get him just to have him killed.”

“You won’t have to,” Eddard said. “Varys has already found him in the Sept of Baelor. He’s likely already dead.”

All said with no sympathy to the fact a person died. Cold and unyielding.

I felt the urge to move, felt the urge to fight, to do _something_ but there was nothing _to_ do. All that work, all that potential political capital burned, all for a situation where I hadn’t even won.

“Fuck all of this,” I muttered, hand balled into fist.

I wanted to do a lot of things, but more than anything I wanted to back home where all of this weight wasn’t on my shoulders. I wanted to be watching TV or playing video games; I wanted to be at the mall scoping out cute guys; I wanted to be training and doing hero work; I wanted to have existential crises about the world maybe coming to an end and what that would mean, if Theo and Taylor were crazy with their doomsday prepping.

I just wanted none of _this_ shit.

But I couldn’t get what I wanted.

I took a breath and nodded. “There’s still a lot we have to do,” I said. There was still the weight on my shoulders but I didn’t focus on it. “Pycelle told me a few things and maybe we can get them to the king.”

“Tell me all that you know,” said Eddard and I did.

⸎

The next morning found us in the chamber of the small council, where there sat the most powerful people in the Seven Kingdoms. There were other lords and ladies of power, wardens of their various lands, but even they were less powerful than these people.

King Robert sat at the head of the table while Eddard sat at the foot. Then there were Renly, Varys, Petyr and Barristan Selmy.

The small council.

“Already sent word to the Citadel that they should begin their process for finding a new Grand Maester,” Varys said.

“Will you be the one to collect and disseminate our letters, then?” asked Eddard. “That seems quite a high collection of power in your hands.”

“A keen insight, my lord,” said Petyr, with a smile. Eddard responded to this with a dry expression. Petyr looked away. “Varys is a spider. Only the gods know where his loyalties lie.”

“My loyalties are and have always been to the realm,” said Varys, “something that can’t be said for you.”

Petyr sat back, his eyes flickering to Robert. I still didn’t entirely get what he’d said and why Robert had accepted it. Sure, he’d pointed the fingers elsewhere, but Robert should have been calm enough at this point to see things through.

“We’ve had this conversation before,” said Robert. “Littlefinger should have told me all of this from the beginning. Of Cersei and her schemes, but _all_ of you have things you didn’t tell me.” He directed his sharp gaze at Eddard. “If Ned couldn’t trust me with his suspicions then why would Littlefinger? Let’s be done with this and focus on the future. All word’s been sent?”

“Yes, my lord,” said Varys. “We’ve sent word to nearby holdfasts so they may be on the lookout for the gods and the children, though I fear they may not be able to hold them.”

“They can be hurt,” said Barristan Selmy. “Ser Olly did so for the gods Grace and Cuff and they are the strongest.”

“One who themselves possess magic,” said Varys.

“Arrows will still be able to hit them in the correct numbers,” said Petyr. “At least that’s my observation. If one hits, they can be killed just as any man.”

“Harsh words when we suspect Lord Wanton may still be in the castle,” said Renly, he smiled lightly. All eyes turned to Eddard and the man shifted, but didn’t answer.

“You are without a line, Your Grace,” Renly continued. “The date of trial has been set, true, but all know the verdict. Cersei is guilty, of adultery and very likely the murder of Jon Arryn—”

“Talks with the Grand Maester say he suspected the Tears of Lys,” Varys added. “Are rare and expensive poison.”

“And Lysa Arryn should tell us of her suspicions when she arrives from the Eyrie.”

“Your marriage will be annulled before the Seven,” Renly said, a little annoyed. “You’ll need a new wife, to birth an heir.”

“I have Edric,” Robert said. “He’ll be the next king.”

“A bastard,” said Renly and he chuckled. “Even were you to declare him legitimate I doubt the lords of the Seven Kingdom would accept him.”

“They would have no choice,” said Robert.

“Were Edric to take your place as king, it would mean you were dead, brother,” said Renly. “You would not be there to make them follow your decree.”

“Stannis would,” said Robert. _“You_ would.”

Renly sobered, frowned and then said, “And it would be years after that we are gone. Would we be secure in the knowledge that he would stay on the throne?”

“You speak as one who has a course of action, my lord,” said Varys, his voice sweet.

“Margaery Tyrell,” Renly said without hesitation. “Daughter of Mace Tyrell. The Tyrell family is one of the wealthiest families in the Seven Kingdoms, second only to the Lannisters, and they can field a great host.”

“You think that Tywin would be so stupid as to go to war with us?” said Robert.

 _He_ _’s already started against the Riverlands,_ I thought. Which was probably why Eddard hadn’t told them what I’d told him. If they didn’t already know. This would be the excuse they needed to go to war. But in not speaking Eddard was letting things play out in the Riverlands.

“I think we need the purses of the Tyrells if a war were to happen,” said Renly. “The crown is in debt and war is expensive. To field a war we would need both their wealth and the ability to convince the Iron Bank not to claim their debts.”

Robert looked to Petyr.

“It’s true, Your Grace,” said Petyr. “Were a war to break between the Lannisters and the crown, it would worry them. A nation often lacks the ability to make repayments after war. I would not be surprised to hear word of their worries when this business reaches their ears.”

Renly shot Petyr a look, and I caught the glimmers of a smile. I didn’t know if they were lying, but there was the strong sense that they were working together. If I’d had a stomach, then it would be twisting right now.

“Send word to your Tyrells,” said Robert. “Make the arrangements.”

Renly’s smile was bright. “At once,” he said.

“Anything else?” said Robert.

“There’s still the matter of Daenerys Targaryen,” said Varys.

“What of her?” Eddard asked.

“She is with child,” said Petyr.

“Is she?” said Renly. “You have no heir and a Targaryen spawn grows in her belly. One of them still alive is enough, but a brood?”

“You told me this and I told you to do nothing,” said Robert, ignoring Renly.

“I have new information,” said Varys. “Information I would have disregarded before, but now we live in a world with gods and where magic is more than myth.”

“Well then?” said Robert. “What is it?”

“A prophecy was shared of the child, and it was sung as he was birthed that he will be the stallion that mounts the world,” said Varys. “Which means—”

“We know what that means and it sounds like nothing but crones’ tales,” said Eddard.

“My thoughts when I first heard, as I said, my lord,” Varys said, the words sweet.

“It would do us well to heed these words,” said Petyr. “We struggled to believe the power of the gods until we saw them. What folly would befall us if we were to disregard this only to find it is more of _them_ that sing this truth.”

Barristan Selmy cleared his throat. Everyone turned to him.

“It was mentioned to me while I watched Ser Olly spar with Lady Grace that there are some whose abilities allow them to see the future,” he said. “It is not something we should disregard out of hand.”

“You would want this child to be killed too, Ser Barristan,” Eddard said, shock in his voice.

“That would be without honour,” said Barristan Selmy. “It is better to defeat an enemy in combat than to catch them unaware. However, the words themselves cannot be forgotten. Magic has returned and it is strong, we cannot dismiss it.”

“Kill the child.”

“Robert!” said Ned, coming to his feet.

“I will not have enemies at my fore and flank,” said Robert. “You said it yourself, Targaryen sympathisers might flock to Tywin’s cause. They’re more to do so now if they hear of this child, of the line continuing. All the Dothraki would need are boats before they come ravage these lands. Not to mention it might mean they are braver, that they fight to prepare the Iron Throne for that mongrel’s return. Better she be gone, they _all_ be gone, and I only have Tywin as my focus.”

“This is not the man I know,” said Ned. “The man I grew up with.”

“No,” said Robert. “This is your _king_ and he has the realm to look after. You have my word Varys.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” he said, bowing. “But I will have to offer reward. A pardon of crimes for Ser Jorah Mormont.”

“A poacher,” said Eddard. “One I sentenced to death.”

“Granted,” said Robert, his eyes on the table, not looking up.

Eddard pulled off a silver clasp and threw it against the table, turning away without a word. Hidden behind a hand, Petyr couldn’t help himself but smile.

_They planned this._

I followed after Eddard, pushing past the fatigue. He was a fast walker, not speaking and his expression broody. But I kept up, kept watch until we were far enough away that I felt confident to stop. I appeared in front of him.

“You’re going to get your job back,” I said.

“We’ve lost,” said Eddard. “Robert agreed to kill a child, not in anger, not while drunk, but to secure his position.”

“You’re going to get back your job,” I said, getting in his way. He was taller and bigger than me, more muscle and he probably could take me in a straight up fight. “I’m not sure about Varys, but Petyr makes me think he _wanted_ that. They’re pushing you out and we won’t let them do that.”

“What good is it that I’m here when I could be back home with my family?” he said. “When I could tell my wife to release the Imp and return to preparing the North for winter?”

“Because _this_ is more important,” I almost screamed. “A stupid war that’ll mean however many people dead. All for what? Pride or some shit? Fuck that and fuck no. We help and we reduce it. I…” I took a breath, my voice shaky. “I accepted that Pycelle had to die, sure, and that fucking _sucked_ for me. So you get to do this even if it’s hard, even if it’s uncomfortable.”

 _You_ _’re the only person I trust with this,_ I thought. _I thought Renly would too, but all he_ _’s been thinking about is some stupid marriage, the line of succession. Please. Please. Please. Agree._

“I can’t do this without you,” I said, desperation leaking into my voice.

“I’ve lost Robert’s ear.”

“Then get better at talking to him,” I said. “Stop talking to the person he was and talk to the person he _is._ He looked guilty back there and that’s because of you, _use_ it.”

I felt horrible, feelings my breaker state had kept back. Hearing them talk about killing some unborn kid I didn’t know. I’d probably have to go stop that, intercept the birds so they wouldn’t send the message. And all of _this_ was stopping that.

“I have to go,” I said. “Maybe stop that kid from dying. But take back your position or we’ve already lost, and Varys and Petyr will push whatever agenda they want.”

I left him before he could answer.

⸎

The first domino had toppled and now we had to let things play out. It didn’t hit me until a week had past that this was the case. I’d stopped Varys’ maesters from sending the letters to kill Daenerys’ child, but even there I couldn’t be sure I’d succeeded; I’d gotten Eddard to take back his position as Hand; and I was watching everyone in my spare time to see if any plots were moving forward.

But there were none.

Eddard had watched his children sail off into the North with teary eyes; Varys was collecting information, skulking around the castle and sometimes losing me when my attention drifted; Petyr was preparing to collect debts owed by small players to the crown, preparing for the tax season; and Robert spent his time between training, drinking and bringing any woman he could into the castle.

It felt too normal especially after a few days of a burst of activity. When everything had happened. It felt like this momentum should have continued until everything reached its climax.

My memory of a shitty place with shitty things happening was Brockton Bay. I’d looked things over after Weaver had joined us and the story was bleak. It had started with Lung being caught, then the Bakuda Bombings, followed by Leviathan, the Nine until the Undersiders had taken over which led to Echidna.

It’d been non-stop, one thing after another with no break or reprieve.

But now it felt like this was an extended reprieve, where everyone held on to their anger, all their resentment, all while waiting for the final domino to topple.

And I was caught in the background, with the only person I really trusted being Eddard, and even _he_ was dealing with fucking day-to-day stuff that didn’t seem as important.

There were orphanages that had to get increased budgets, people who’d been hurt during the attack which would mean new gold cloaks would have to be trained. There were increased signs that people weren’t happy with Cersei being arrested and they’d been arrested but this was causing further unrest. Grand Maester Pycelle had been escorted out of the Great Sept through force and there were ripples from that, meaning more people spoke against the gold cloaks, saw them as sacrilegious tyrants.

Not mentioning the groups of people who’d come for the Tourney and who were still leaving. This meant there was a lot of foot traffic, while the guards at the gates were more vigilant about who they were letting in and out.

Important stuff for the running of King’s Landing, but not important enough for me to get involved in. Which left me untethered, without real direction because everything I’d planned to do had suddenly been rendered moot.

I stole some money around the castle, a lot of it from Petyr, and midday found me at the Mud Gate, watching as ships came and went. Unlike the Riverlands, King’s Landing had more diversity. The shades of people that walked the stretch of land between the wall and the Blackwater Rush were enough to trick me into thinking that I might me home, never mind that all the ships were made from wood instead of metal.

I walked along the Blackwater Rush, between houses that had formed and through the markets that had grown there. There were a whole manner of fruits and vegetables, bruised and battered, but the few I’d bought were sweater than some I’d eaten in the castle if I chose some which weren’t overripe.

There were a range of animals I hadn’t seen before, all in cages; there were pigeons that filled the air and landed for scraps; stray cats and dogs that that walked along footpaths, with matted fur sticking on end. There were children, running along stalls laughing between themselves; and men who carried swords at their sides, though they ranged in length and size.

I stopped short as I saw a man that looked different _._ He was around five feet, with short legs and long arm, his chest broad and with a sloped brow with sunken eyes. Every surface of his skin I could see was covered by coarse, dark hair.

He reminded me a little of the artist rendering of Neanderthals which…didn’t feel right in terms of timeline, but then this wasn’t our world and dragons existed.

The man stood at a stall filled with a lot of woodwork. He stood with his arms crossed and with an expression that was made mean by his large jaw.

I got close and looked over his work, statues of wood in various designs, painted with bright colours. His eyes narrowed as he looked at me, his expression becoming meaner. I pulled out my purse and jingled it, that seemed to calm him down.

I didn’t find anything I particularly liked so I moved on, buying more food and looking through clothes. I caught sight of a stall with a tanned woman, almond shaped eyes and dark hair. She was in a stall selling oils for hair and dyes that would change even the darkest hair.

“I just want something to treat my hair,” I said. I didn’t have any hot water. I didn’t have a _home,_ but I wanted something that would make me feel good. She tried to entice me to buy more stuff but I ignored it and moved on.

At day’s end, instead of going back to the castle, looming above everything, filled with all the weight of trying to stop war in a country. I booked a room at an inn, ate their food and that’s where I slept for the night.

The next day I didn’t go back to the castle, choosing to take a bath and then a walk through King’s Landing, walking on foot and getting a better feel of the place. I listened to people’s gossip, which painted a more stylised picture of everything that had happened.

It helped with the distance, making everything seem like a tall tale and that kept the weight at bay.

Which was why I didn’t go back the next day or the next. It was easy to steal some money with my powers and it was easier to _blend._ As long as I was quiet, didn’t use my powers too loudly, I could just be forgotten, the responsibilities forgotten too. I had one arm, but that wasn’t too out of the ordinary. It only got me a second glance and nothing more.

I bought clothes and it felt nice to be wearing them, the feel of the material against my skin, seeing how I looked.

The colours were bright, almost peacock-like, and that reminded me of when I’d first been starting to get used to being out. For a long time my mind had stupidly believed that darker colours were _straight_ and they’d become my mask. But after everything, the time spent talking to therapists I’d leaned a little too hard into colour.

Over time it had dulled down and I’d found my style.

But for me to be here…

My therapist would be worried about that.

 _Guess that_ _’s why this feels so good,_ a part of me thought. _I_ _’m focusing on myself without thinking about anyone else for the first time in a long time._

_Selfish._

I looked up to Aegon’s High Hill and spotted the castle, feeling a sinking feeling as I thought about everything connected to _that._

_Just a few more days. We_ _’re waiting for a trial. I’ll know all the pieces come together._

Running away when I asked Eddard he should stay.

_Hypocrite._

“Fuck,” I muttered as I looked up the Aegon’s High Hill and started the long walk, feeling as the weight of everything resettled.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Weaver**

 

“Good,” I said, as the group, twenty-five men strong, appeared between the trees. I’d sensed them a while ago, felt their mix of horses and donkeys, their cases of books and bags of food, cages filled with birds and strange devices made of metal. Though I’d _thought_ I knew what I was dealing with. I didn’t want to be falsely confident.

There were soldiers in the group, but that made sense. The atmosphere around the Riverlands had shifted, with people wanting a greater sense of security. Since word had gotten out about Catelyn Stark taking Tyrion Lannister, we’d found a lot more people travelling up from Oldstones to seek refuge.

Before the incident we’d had forty-eight people, now we were nearing sixty and with the new additions we’d have about eighty-five. A lot of mouths to feed. It would need us to rethink the amount of food we bought from Fairmarket. But it was needed. More people were better.

“You were worried?” said Kirk. He had his hands in his pockets, watching as the group steadily came closer.

We weren’t in costume, because this really wasn’t about image. Just as we’d accepted the hedge knights without the pageantry, unfortunately it would be the same thing here. There was a lot of work to be done and though these people had their own reasons for being here, I would get the most utility I could out of them.

“I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop for a while,” I said. “It feels quiet, especially after people talked about war maybe happening.”

Kirk shook his head. “I…was talking to Lazelos and Malario about it and they said this seems normal,” he said. “Things don’t just _happen._ There are a lot of stuff that need to be worked out first. People have to move, messages need to be sent, that sort of thing. Ravens are fast, but it’s not a straight shot, y’know? They stop and eat, get distracted or whatever, sometimes lost and it might take longer before things kick into gear.”

“That makes sense,” I said.

We’d been working: building walls and moats; Everett finishing his generator and testing the electricity production; Kirk had been splitting his time before finishing off the wall and getting the central castle built; while Theo had been making excess material to serve as a base for building, continuing his training with the Braavosi and doing some admin work; and I’d been keeping an eye on the silk, spacing out bee colonies so they had a wider reach and they could be self-sufficient, and working with our people so they didn’t think we did nothing all day.

But all through that, I’d been considering the worst. I’d been sleeping light, waiting for the ambush that would take us in the night, or spending days thinking about a way to give a polite ‘no’ when Lord Tully came to us to help him against his enemy.

All of which hadn’t come yet.

And that was above what felt like a different sense of dread that only Theo and I felt. I wasn’t sure about the timeline, but we were either near or at the two-year mark, when Jack Slash was slated to make his move and the world was set to end.

A part of me had thought that at least at this point people would be back for us, if indeed we were important to the end of the world. But it felt more and more that that bit of hope had been for nothing.

 _Focus on what’s in front of you,_ I thought. I had to make this place comfortable for us, if not until we were rescued, then for a long stay. I had to keep things together so we didn’t lose anyone, even with how hard that felt when some of us were so far away we could do nothing to help them if anything went wrong. I had to make sure that we had a place for those that _would_ leave. And I had to make sure that it could all persist through _years_ long winters.

We stood outside Oldstones, beyond the moat that wrapped around the outer walls, at the foot of a thin bridge made of stone. Everett had done something underground, changed paths that water travelled so that it filled the moat. It still wasn’t full, but it was slowly getting there with each passing day.

It was late afternoon and soon our livestock would be coming back. I’d succeeded in scaring off the wolves that had hounded us in the beginning, also helped by the fact that some of the wildlife had decided to get further away from us; and the people that came to us didn’t come in empty-handed, adding their meagre wealth into the pot. It would be nightfall before our hunters got back and _hopefully_ they’d be successful.

All these numbers and all the admin work that had to be done and from what I’d heard, we hadn’t even reached the average number of people for castles.

Hopefully they would be able to alleviate some of the pressures.

The procession finally arrived, with the oldest of the maesters coming forward. He was a thin man, almost frail looking though he had an eager step as he climbed off his horse; he had greying hair, a grey beard and warm, brown eyes.

He smiled and it too was warm, excited.

“Greetings my lord, my lady,” he said, bowing to each of us.

“Hello,” I said.

“Hey,” Kirk said with a small wave.

“I am Maester Cedrik of the Citadel,” he said. “Travelling under the protection of Lords Tully and Blackwood.”

 _Looking to make an impression,_ I thought and filed that bit of information away. I wanted nothing more than to interrupt him in his speech, for it to be like the hedge knights where we’d skipped over everything just to get to the work that needed to be done. But that would be rude and with these people being so important, I’d need to play into this.

Maester Cedrik explained that he’d come because of Maester Wynne. He’d explained that we came from another world and that our civilisation was more advanced. That he wished to learn from us thing they hadn’t yet thought to test, and on and on.

“I’m Weaver,” I said. “Though some call me Taylor. It’s up to you to decide which you prefer. This is Annex, or Kirk.” Kirk waved again. “And the others are busy. Come in, food’s already being prepared. I’d like us to get to work as quickly as possible.”

“Of course, my lady. My lord,” he said with a small bow.

They followed us in. Oldstones sat in a space that was close to one and a half city blocks, with a large distance between the exterior and interior walls. So far there weren’t any buildings between the two walls, everything we had was safely ensconced within a smaller moat and much shorter walls.

We’d split things up, building houses that would serve various functions and putting up frameworks that the growing number of people would live in so the castle wouldn’t be too cramped. A corral had been built for our livestock, there were two churches, for the Faith of the Seven and a Judeo-Christian church Theo had been tending; and the grounds with the white weirwood tree had been fenced with a wall, an arch with rippling hand patterns put up for the door. Everett had moved his tinkering above ground and there was a building for that, large and with a few workrooms so any blacksmiths the others brought would have adequate rooms.

Secretly he was also hoping for other tinkers to sprout and he could mentor them. I wasn’t sure if that would be a thing.

“Excuse me, my lady,” said Maester Cedrik. “But what is the purpose of these poles you’ve put up.”

There were six in total, made of thin spires of earth and connected between each other by lines. They were rough and a part of me was scared of them, but they _worked_ and that was important.

“Lights,” I said. “We put them on when it gets too dark. It gets us a few more hours of work before we go to sleep.”

“Lights?” said Maester Cedrik.

“She’s awful at explaining,” said Kirk. “Basically those are like candle lights without the candle part. They’re run by electricity, which is moved by all those lines connected to them, and when they run through some metals it lights up.”

Maester Cedrik frowned. “Elek-tree-city?” he said.

“It’s a long thing and I’m up to explaining,” said Kirk with a shrug. “Well, the parts I _get,_ but it’s better me or Theo are the ones explaining it because Everett’s awful at it.”

“He did a good job with how he’s producing electricity,” I said. “I got it and I’m not science literate.”

“No,” said Kirk. “The explanation was _awful._ It’s just that you have a foundation. All of us do, a bit. But I asked the people that were listening in if they got any of that and they just said it was god magic.”

“Maester Wynne shared your knowledge of the…tin telephone?” said Maester Cedrik.

It caught me a little off-guard because most people didn’t interrupt us when we were talking between ourselves, too intimidated by it. I had to take a breath and take stock because it was things like this that told me this place was affecting me more than I knew.

“Does this elek-tree-city work by the same means?” he asked.

“There’s the flow of electrons,” said Kirk. “Just like there’s flow of vibrations, so…” He shrugged.

“Elek-trons?” said Maester Cedrik.

“Okay,” said Kirk. “Okay. I think I have an idea. Bear in mind I don’t know a lot of this stuff, but I’m good with drawing mental pictures so we’ll start there. Imagine that _everything_ is made up of little circles. With somethings the circles are closer together, but with other they’re further apart. Water is the easiest to picture. It can be three…settings—”

“Not now,” I said, cutting him off. Kirk deflated. We’d reached the building we’d put up for the maesters. It was large but bare bones, walls that made different rooms without any of the beauty Kirk and Theo usually injected into the stuff they made. It also doubled into a small school with one large classroom. “This is where you’ll live and where you’ll teach.”

“Teach, my lady?” said Maester Cedrik.

“Teach,” I said with a nod. “Each kid is going to spend a few hours each day with you, learning the basics. Read, write and count, math. We’ll work up from there as time moves on or as we grow. You’re free to shadow any of us you want, ask any questions you want, but there’ll be other tasks, admin stuff you’ll have to help with.”

I heard a shocked breath and that started a tide. I felt people move, scrambling to get back. Horses picked up on the panic, neighing loudly, stamping their feet and flicking their tails. I felt as Maester Cedrik finally noticed. His body went rigid as he looked up, seeing a cloud of bugs carrying a scroll. There was another man, his body rigid but he made a point not to move back.

I caught it as it fell and handed it over. It took a bit before he regained composure and took the scroll with shaky hands.

“Quite a wondrous sight, to behold your magic,” he said, his voice shaking. “Maester Wynne had mentioned it, and the work on the telephones was impressive. But we did not believe…”

“We got powers,” said Kirk. “It’s scary at first, but you get used to it.”

“You’ll have to get used to it while you get settled,” I said. “Read over my list and see if you agree to the—”

“We agree, my lady,” he said, his tone filled with more eagerness. “No doubt we agree. To not study your magic, your advancements, it would…it would be the loss of a great boon by my order.”

I nodded, feeling a great relief. “Good,” I said. “I’ll give you time to get settled. You’ll be informed when food is ready.”

“Wait, my lady,” said Maester Cedrik. “My lord. You were to tell us of these elek-trons. The youngest of my novices and acolytes will deal with settling into our rooms. I admit I cannot wait.”

“Sure, man,” said Kirk with a shrug.

“Illyn, Yoren,” the maester said, his tone taking a sharper edge. “Take quills, ink and parchment. You will be our scribes.”

“Don’t be afraid to interrupt me if you don’t understand something,” Kirk said. It was a relief to see that he’d lost some of his anger, but he was still a concern.

“Knights,” I said. “There’s a basin with water at the back. You can take your horses to drink.”

“Thank you, my lady,” said a man, the same one who’d had his back straight. He was the leader and there was the air of familiarity on him. He nodded to the others and stepped away, their horses following.

I left Kirk at it while I went to the workshop. The place was thicker than any other building, solidly built and squat, and the closer we came to it, the more heat I could feel. Everett was there, shirtless and beating red hot metal. He hadn’t been a scrawny guy, but the more rugged work and time in the sun was starting to show.

It took him a bit before he noticed me and stopped what he was building.

“Need something?” he said. He pushed the small piece into a barrel of water, steam rising into the air. 

I moved carefully through the place. There was insulated wire on the floor, placed out of the way so no one would step on it, but still dangerous not to be aware of. The wires were split between connecting to light sources and charging a bare bones exo-suit he’d cobbled together. As he explained it, it was better he have the exo-suit instead of trying to work the armour he’d built on Earth Bet.

As much as I usually trusted tinker creations, Everett had been stretching the confines of his specialisation to do a lot of this and I knew _that_ could be dangerous. He’d be filling in a lot of the blanks that his ability didn’t provide and I didn’t want to be at the unfortunate end of that process.

“The maesters have finally arrived,” I said.

“More than one?”

“One and some students. Novices and acolytes. Kirk is giving him the basics, explaining particles and phases of matter.”

Everett sighed. “Probably better that it’s him explaining it than me,” he said. “I heard Arina talking to the other kids the other day. She said she finally understood what Kirk meant by a light sword.”

“Is that weird?”

“It just means Kirk’s good at getting concepts past through imagery,” he said. “And I think that’s important. A lot of the science we grew up with is abstract and abstractions are hard when you’re not used to dealing with them. It’s why some people are shit at distance and you have to use time to measure it.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” I said. I looked past him. “What are you making?”

“Filling out the exo-suit, but mostly more filaments for the lights,” he said and he sighed. “You have _no_ idea how much of a pain that is. The light is low, they’re _loud_ and they don’t last. I feel like things should be better but my power’s struggling to keep up.”

“Is that strange?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Never felt it before,” he said. “But then, my power hasn’t had to deal with all this before. My working conditions aren’t sterile, the materials I’m using are either subpar or they’re generated in part by powers and _that’s_ messing things up on a micro level. A lot of other stuff I have to account for…Fuck, I shouldn’t be saying all of this stuff. I should be giving you hope.”

I shook my head. “You don’t have to with me,” I said. “I can handle the truth.”

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh. “More than most of us, sometimes.”

I didn’t say anything.

“Anyone close?” he asked.

Theo wasn’t in Oldstones. He’d gone down to Fairmarket with our first batch of produce. He had business savvy and would discuss the rest of how things would work. He’d talked a lot about taking things to Lord Harroway’s Town and eventually Saltpans, how we’d deal with risk and rewards. Stuff he would be better at handling than I would.

Kirk was still talking to the maester and his acolytes while the others were looking through their building and choosing rooms. The knights were tending to their horses, looking around, muttering between themselves. I moved more bugs to pay attention to the conversation.

Our people were too busy with work to be close here.

“No,” I said.

“Have you been paying attention to the time?” he asked.

I swallowed. “Almost two years if we haven’t reached it yet.”

He nodded. “Theo’s…he isn’t doing too well. He’s been training more, longer and taking more risks.”

“I’ve noticed,” I said. “It’s part of the reason I thought it’d be a good idea for him to get away. Refocus.”

“I’m the one that gave the order,” he said, a brow raised.

“Great minds,” I said.

Everett snorted. “Jack Slash’s one thing,” he said. “I _get_ that that will come back for sure. But the end of the world…Do you really think…?”

“I do,” I said. “I know the thinker who predicted it. I know her power. She told me that a lot of the time I was there when it happened.”

“So us being here…it could mean things are better or they’re postponed, right?”

I shrugged. I didn’t know the answer to that, but with the world as I knew it, I doubted that was the case.

“I have this stupid hope that a portal is going to open any day now and we’ll magically get sent back home,” he said. “That this will all have been a nightmare.”

“That’s the hope,” I said.

“In reality it doesn’t feel that way.”

“You’re still building stuff, right? Scanners for Wanton’s power. You can use that to get us home.”

“That’s the hope,” he said, his voice dark. “But there are a lot of problems with that. My idea is to send quakes through realities, strong enough that they’ll get noticed. But that sort of thing, especially in a place where the architecture isn’t ready for it?”

“Damage,” I said.

“Or we get the wrong attention and some unknown capes from another earth appear,” he said and shrugged.

_Dark thoughts. How long have you been stewing?_

“It’ll work out,” I said.

He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “At least you’re here if it doesn’t work out,” he said. “Preparing for the worst.”

I shrugged. “I’m the pessimistic sort,” said. “Blame it on being raised in Brockton Bay.”

“My lady,” I heard through my bugs. The kitchen had been moved above ground, into the round tower Theo had pushed up from the ground. Kirk was still in the process of filling it with rooms, but the kitchen was done. “Lunch is ready.”

“Thank you,” I responded with my bugs.

“Food’s ready. You’ll get to meet the maesters.”

“Food’ll do me good,” he said. “Talking might too.”

I nodded. “We’ll make things work.”

Everett gave me a smile. “We have to,” he said. 

I started calling everyone. Gathering a large swarm of bees into the air to call the people that were out felling trees. It took a while before all of us were gathered and then the meal began, the food, drink and conversation making us forget our problems for a while.

⸸

“This feels like the first time I’ve let myself get close to enjoying this place,” said Everett.

We were on the other side of the river, the hill Oldstones behind us. Everett was dressed in his power armour: A bare bones exo-suit made of a dark metal, with bands that wound around his legs, hips, waist and arms; it was connected to his chest by a dark breastplate and at the pack was his battery pack which let out a mess of wire which ran along the suit, and up his neck connecting to glass goggles. His hands wore gauntlets with sharp claws and his boots were framed by metal, with sharp cleats that sunk into the ground with each step.

The suit looked heavy and it _sounded_ heavy too as it clunked along, whirring as mechanical components shifted with each step. Everett carried his sword over his shoulder, and unlike it usually did, today it didn’t seem as heavy.

I rode on a carriage, paying attention to the bugs flying and crawling in front of me, scanning the topography. The bugs travelling on the ground felt the small tremors each time Everett stabbed his sword. The horses weren’t as skittish as they’d been at first which I appreciated.

“You say that while working,” I said.

I’d decided to tag along because I was starting to get stir crazy back at the castle. A lot of my time was spent giving a peripheral focus to my spiders and making sure the bees kept working that I didn’t have a lot of time to just do nothing. So when Everett had told us he was going out for the next few days. I’d chosen to tag along.

It had taken a lot of work, using tunnels my ants had built to store my spiders, closing off sections so they could roam without bumping into other insects, while leaving a few cocooned bugs to feed them during the period. I’d lose bugs for sure, but it wouldn’t be as bad as if I’d left them on their own, and they wouldn’t hurt our people. Though there were still a lot of gnats that would be flying around, ticks that would be looking for blood and flies to harry them.

“Yeah,” said Everett. “But it’s relaxed sort of work.” He pulled his sword out and started walking again, his cleats sinking into the ground with each step. The armour was loud, its steps stilted, but Everett didn’t look discomforted. “But it’s outside work and it sort of lets me drink in the vista.”

“Didn’t you come through here on your way back from Seagard?” I asked.

“We did,” he said and he sighed, his sword sinking into the ground again. “But we were too worried to focus on anything but getting back. We were also tired and hungry, which didn’t help.”

“I can imagine what that feels like,” I said.

The desperation. I’d felt something similar when Brian had been caught by the Nine. The loss of focus for everything periphery to saving him.

Everett didn’t say anything, continuing his stilted walk and stabbing the ground with his sword. I focused on guiding my horse. We’d left behind a patch of trees and were now walking towards a gently sloped hill covered almost entirely in grass, with a spurt of trees growing out in a line in the distance. There were larger hills behind it, from the stories Olivia and Kirk told, between which was a low valley.

“What are you doing anyway?” I asked.

“Detected a mineral deposit while we were coming here,” he said. “Didn’t have time to investigate it and I sort of forgot about it until recently, but I’m hoping it’s coal.”

“Coal would do us good,” I said.

 _“Very_ good,” said Everett, suddenly excited. “I mean, first, it’d be pushing this place to whole new levels earlier than our earth. Maester Cedrik already knows about coal, but it’s rare that mines be found and most they heard about are in the East, You Too if I’m remembering right.”

“I’m _certain_ you aren’t,” I said. 

“Shut up,” he said, grinning. “Second, there’s this winter for years thing and this could help decreased the toll that takes. Coal burns longer and steadier than wood.”

“Then I really hope it’s coal too.”

“It’d be good for me too,” he said. “I really _hate_ working with wood. I have to tend the fire, control temperature and then keep adding wood, adding to the workload of our people with them felling more trees.”

“There’s transportation issues, though,” I said. “We’re going to have to get more horses.”

“Duran said with the silk you sold we should be able to live off it for a year with our current numbers,” he said. “I think we’ll be able to afford horses.”

“True,” I said. Just like Jarack and family when they’d first arrived, Duran was a real help. Where Jarack and his family were more rugged, helping us with survival aspect, Duran knew how this place’s economy worked. With him, we’d been able to get an estimate of how much the going price for silk and honey.

“It’ll have to be the next shipment,” I said. “I’m thinking horses and carts to move the things. Or maybe donkeys instead of horses? They seem sturdier.”

“We’ll have to ask the people that know,” he said. The maesters had been with us a week and though the knowledge they got from us was a scatter shot, what they were giving us was more directed.

Where Jarack and our other people were more reserved in the knowledge they offered us, Maester Cedrik wasn’t. Farms needed a lot of land and the maester had told us that planting anything within the castle wasn’t worth it. He told us that summer was near its end, with autumn fast approaching, which meant planting now was close to useless except for select plants; better to build a lot of granaries and buy excess food to store for the winter. Chopping down trees and storing wood would also have to be a priority.

Which was likely why Everett had remembered the deposit he’d detected when they’d been coming. The reminder that winter was serious business here and even with the work being put in a lot of lives would be lost.

“We’ll also have to build roads, connecting us to the mine—”

“You’re talking as if…” He stopped. “Might have found a direction. It’s not too far away. I’m gonna strip and get on the carriage.”

“Sure,” I said. I pulled, clicking my tongue and the horses stopped. Everett undid leather straps and stepped out of the suit.

“Help pulling it up?” he said.

I got off and we manoeuvred the suit onto the back of the carriage. We got back up front and started moving, wooden wheels on uneven ground. I used my bugs to keep to the best path, but it took some work and it was _bumpy._

“How’s Leana doing?” said Everett.

“Better,” I said. “People are talking to her and she’s getting better with her powers. Means she’s starting to accept them. Still not so good at control.”

Everett shrugged. “Control isn’t the priority, right?” he said. “It’s if she’s alright head wise.”

I hummed. 

We rose over the hill and the sight was breath taking. A steeper slope that went down to a valley filled with dense trees, at all sides hills that grew up as mounds. There was a bald patch in the valley, one without trees and which was probably a farm.

We started down.

The trip was long, especially when we reached the trees. When evening set Everett started a fire while I pulled out the pots and pans to cook. We had enough rations that we could be out a week, but we’d be here three days at most.

We ate, talked some more and slept. Early morning we had breakfast and we were off. We moved through the trees, having steadily more trouble until Everett used his sword to clear the way and made the road as even as he could.

The trip was faster, with us stopping a few times for him to get a better sense of the direction. We moved past the trees, further away from the farm until we stopped.

“Gonna head up and make a quake. Hold the horses,” he said.

I nodded and watched as he walked away. It was a few minutes, getting distance, first doing scans before a shudder rode up the carriage. The horses stamped their feet, flicked their tails but they didn’t move too much. Just after the first shudder, a second, _stronger_ shudder, followed closely by a crack that hit the air. The ground shook and it was violent, shaking every tree and sending a flock of birds into the air. The horses neighed, their tails flicked and I had to keep a tight hold on the reigns to keep them from running off.

The ground continued to shake, the sound filling the air for close to a minute before it suddenly stopped.

I moved the horses forward with some coaxing, getting closer before tying them to a tree and walking closer. Bugs reached the crevice first, flying in to get a sense of their dimensions.

He’d built a tunnel, long and deep. There was something else, jagged bits that rose up, odd against the earth around it. I felt another tremor but this was shallow. Earth shifted, tunnels collapsing as rock rose. Some of my bugs died while others were only stuck. Another set of tremors in quick order and more of the rock jutted up until one of them protruded outward.

Everett was grinning as I reached him.

“Success?” I said.

“Coal,” he said, a chuckle in his voice. “I’d be bending down to pick it up if I could. But it’s awkward with this armour.”

I bent and picked up a chunk of black rock bigger than my fist. It smudged my fingers where I touched it.

“We’re going to have to do a lot of work,” I said. “Practical and political. This land isn’t ours. We could just buy it, but I have a feeling Lord Tully is going to throw his weight around.”

“Word we heard said he was a good man,” said Everett, but he sighed. “But I get why he would. It’s something I’ve been trying to not think about, but we might have insulted the guy.”

I gave him a look.

“Blackwood and Bracken know us,” said Everett. “They’ve talked to us and all that. When we were going to King’s Landing the path Kathy took sent them to Blackwood but not Hoster Tully. He’ll want to show us we’re below him in the scheme of things.”

“I can see that,” I said. “There’s a similar practise with villains. If you’re getting into someone’s territory, you have to meet up with them, tell them you’re going to be working there as a sign of respect. The only people that don’t do that are people who are secure in their power.”

“Which is why you didn’t push for it,” said Everett, looking at me with a frown.

I shrugged. “I can’t remember really thinking about it,” I said. I let out a breath. “We’re going to have to do things right. I’d rather we have access to the coal than us stealing it, that way we own it instead of having to buy it from someone else. I think the best thing would be you and me heading to Lord Tully.”

“What’s your rationale?” he said.

“We’re the leaders of the Wards. It’ll mean something that we both went to him instead of going to the king. Might make up for the disrespect.”

“And it might help me curb your worser impulses.”

I turned his way.

He shrugged. “You’re not good at making friends,” he said. “People are either scared of you, admire you or they don’t like you. I think the Undersiders might have been the only friend you ever really had.”

I sighed.

He shrugged again. “I get it. You were forced to be with us which is why you don’t resonate with us so much. But…you’re forced to be in this situation too, which means you might be standoffish, blustering your way through. Gotta guard against that.”

I didn’t have anything to say to that.

“I’m wondering now,” I said, changing the subject. “If we should take some of the coal back so Maester Cedrik can start studying it. Or if we’re worried about him telling Lord Tully about it and ruining this acquisition.”

“It won’t be that,” he said. “He knows he’ll get more from working with us than anyone else. At least what he wants. And his order is supposed to be neutral to politics, but who knows if that’s true.”

“Then let’s start working,” I said. “Maybe cover things back up so no one finds it while we’re away. We get back, think about logistics of me being away maybe months from the castle and what that’ll mean—”

“Especially with Kirk still being an issue,” he said. “He’s mostly done building. He’ll be wanting to leave soon.”

_Something I don’t want to think about._

I nodded. “I worry about leaving Theo alone to run the castle. Maybe we should drop the news first. That way Kirk can stay until either us or the others in King’s Landing come back.”

“That’s skeevy,” said Everett.

“It is,” I said.

“Might not work the way we’re thinking,” he said. “We might be pushing Kirk to leave sooner.”

I shrugged. “We can’t control that.”

Everett sighed. “Let’s start hauling. We’ll deal with everything else when we get to Oldstones.”

It took us three days to reach Oldstones, which had a lot to do with the sedate pace. The carriages were filled with chunks of coal above Everett’s power suit and that was a strain that quickly tired our horses.

“I’ll have to start working on a road,” said Everett. “Thankfully the distance is much shorter than Fairmarket.”

“Yeah,” I said. “But the road can be bare bones and it’ll still work. Just have to make a path that won’t cause delays.”

“I’ll have to do it after.”

I nodded.

⸸

 _“Another_ side project?” said Kirk.

The air was terse. We’d spent so long above ground, that it was clear now the difference between being there and in the basement. Theo had arrived two days before our return, and now he sat with Everett, Kirk and me in the war room.

The place felt emptier with so many of us gone.

“This isn’t a side project,” he said. “It’s all helping to the main goal.”

“A month, maybe more to get to Riverrun without Olive,” said Kirk. “More time to negotiate and then there’s the actual work of building a mine, building roads that connect the mine to here. We’re talking six months at _least,_ maybe more. All to build _infrastructure._ ”

“That’s a lot of time,” Theo said. We hadn’t even had time to discuss his trip to Fairmarket before getting to this. Which was my fault. I had the feeling Everett would dither and I’d wanted to get it out of the way.

“But it’s needed if I’m going to build better tech,” said Everett. “Coal is just a more effective fuel source than wood, and some metal require _it_ instead of wood to be made.”

He looked at me for help, but I wasn’t sure how to offer it.

 _Which is probably why you should have thought on this,_ I thought.

This was complicated by a number of factors, chief amongst them the fact that the possibility of us getting home seemed further and further away. They would be seeing it, I was sure. The fact that Everett wouldn’t be building anything while travelling, or I wouldn’t be making more money to get resources.

All of this felt like a foregone conclusion.

“Ava and Alex aren’t coming back,” said Theo, breaking the stream of the conversation. “They sent a letter to Fairmarket. The king asked for a ward and they volunteered to stay.”

I swallowed, not exactly surprised but still unsettled. There was precedence, much like the situation with Duran. But I hadn’t expected that from us and I hadn’t expected that we’d accept it if the offer was made.

I had bugs on each of the others and I got a sense of their body language. Kirk was slouched, one hand drooping into the table; Everett sat straight, expression taut; and Theo was putting on a brave face.

“The wardship will last until we’ve finished the tech that will send us home,” Theo continued.

“The question is, is there actually a chance?” Kirk asked. “Are you actually making progress? Because for a month you were getting your electricity running, then you worked on your armour and the lights. But I haven’t _once_ heard you talking about the scanners you were supposed to be building.”

“That’s because building the scanner is more complicated than I thought,” said Everett and he sighed. “But I’m trying, doing all the things that my power seems to want to make it run easier. Reduce the load.”

“Reduce the load?” said Theo.

Everett shrugged. “My power’s been…sluggish, if that’s the right word,” he said. “It’s having a hard time adapting to the low-tech environment. But I’ve been working around it and that needs a lot of infrastructure.”

“So how long are you thinking?” asked Kirk. “Roughly?”

“That’s hard to tell,” said Everett. “I thought I’d be done by the time the others got back so I can scan Alex and Barden. But…Yeah…”

Kirk sighed. “I’ve been meaning to tell you guys this for a long time, but…I think I’ll be heading out,” he said and he swallowed. “I know you guys don’t feel the same way I do about slavery—”

“It’s not that,” said Theo, his voice tight. “It’s just—”

“That it’s easier to ignore,” Kirk said with a shrug. “You don’t know anyone who was a slave. The stories aren’t personal to you like they are to me. You guys don’t feel the _drain_ that hearing about this has on your self-worth. That even across _universes_ it’s the same and people like you are treated like animals, they’re debased.”

He stopped, taking a deep breath.

“It’s not that we’re ignoring it,” said Everett. “Just that…there’s other stuff.”

Kirk snorted. “Stuff that’s more important?” he said. “I mean…like I get it. I said I did. But that excuse doesn’t mean you’re not ignoring the slavery thing. I _can’t._ My great grandmother was a slave and I heard about how she was treated, all the shit she went through and what it meant when people were helping. Slavery ended but things weren’t all the way better, black people and other minorities were treated like shit. There was a system there that I couldn’t do anything about, but now…”

“You understand that you’ll be the tyrant, right?” I said. I didn’t really feel the words. “From their perspective.”

Kirk shook his head. “I really don’t care,” he said. “I care about the people that are suffering and if I can do anything to help them.” He shrugged. “I’ve been stalling for a while. Most of the work is done, anything else you guys can do on your own. I’ll be going to Braavos, start setting things up for what I’ll be doing.”

“What will you be doing?” I asked.

“Building something like the underground railroad,” he said. “Take slaves to Braavos so they can either live there or get back to their homes. But that’ll need me to go talk to the Braavosi first, get them to agree to giving us ships and money to make things work before I start setting things up.”

“You’ve been thinking about this a lot,” said Theo.

“I…don’t think we’ll ever go home,” said Kirk. He shrugged. “If I’m being honest. I think…that maybe Ava was right, and that we _were_ sent here for a reason.” He looked at Theo. “I know that you think yours was Jack Slash, that it’s stopping him and how he ends the world but…maybe this is the universe telling us otherwise. It’s been a year or more since we arrived here, I think, and there hasn’t been a sign that we’re going back home. It also doesn’t feel like Everett’s making any progress.”

Theo slumped. Everett with him.

“I have to do something I feel like is doing _actual_ good instead of sitting here hoping for the best,” said Kirk.

“You have to do what you think is best,” Everett said with a sigh. “Just…be careful okay. You don’t know what you’ll run into out there.”

“Thanks,” Kirk said. “It means a lot to know I have your blessing. I’ll start setting up. I might need some money and supplies. A day, maybe two before I leave.”

“Take whatever you need,” I said. “Moving onto the news of Ava and Alex. Is there anything we can do about that? _Should_ we do anything about it?”

“Can we put this on pause,” said Everett. “I need to decompress after the trip.”

 _After this,_ my mind provided.

“Sure,” I said and the meeting broke. I spent most of my time meditating with Leana, focusing on my bugs and listening in on the maester and his acolytes as they went through what they’d been taught over the last few days. They were still trying to wrap their minds around the concept of particles.

“There are more people,” I said to Leana.

“Yes, my lady,” said Leana, her voice soft. “They came with Theo and Lord Duran. They were hired to bring the food and animals up from Fairmarket. Some decided to stay.”

I nodded. I’d have to be on the lookout for them because there were just too many new people and that could let threats slip through.

“How’ve you been doing without me here?” I asked.

“I was treated well, my lady,” she said. “Though…some of the new people have been keeping their distance from me.”

“It’ll get better,” I said. “It’s already gotten better with everyone else, right?”

Leana smiled. “I know you will watch for me, my lady,” she said.

“But we’ve got to get to the point where you can take care of yourself. You’ve been practising on your own.”

“It’s getting easier,” she said. “But I’m having a harder time learning to control them. Cinder is better, I can turn him in the direction I want. But Ember overpowers me when I try to control him.”

“Keep at it,” I said.

I spent my time pulling back my spiders, feeling out how many I’d left and getting a sense of what the bees had been up to. We’d spaced them out and put the hives in the forest away from the castle, and though I’d lost a few of them, the number lost weren’t so large as to be worrying.

But I’d been gone three days, which wasn’t the months I’d be gone while talking things out with Lord Tully. I’d lose more bugs then, have to rebuild my supplies before I readied the next shipment of silk.

“But that shouldn’t be too much trouble,” said Theo the next morning. “The deal we struck with Brynden was that he’ll deliver food every two weeks for the next four months. He gave us a lot of livestock and there’s still the thirty percent in liquid cash he wrote up for us in a promissory note. We should get that after the silk’s been sold or if the shipment’s been ‘stolen’.”

“I’m surprised you got all of that upfront,” I said. “That you got such a good deal.”

Theo shrugged. “Explained to him that without this deal then we couldn’t trust him,” he said. “That it’d be better for us to just take the stock to Saltpans ourselves. It’s even better now because Duran knows the going price of silk. He’s doing his best to secure this for himself.”

“You did good work,” I said and Theo smiled. “Will you be okay taking care of this place alone? Everett and I are thinking of making a show about this, going to Lord Tully.”

“Yeah. I’ll be okay,” he said. But I didn’t buy it, there was a bit of resignation in his voice that had me worried.

“If you can’t then you can say so,” I said. “And we’ll rework things.”

He shook his head. “I’m fine, really. I understand how important this is for getting back to Bet. Hopefully…”

It was usually Everett’s job to see if people’s heads were in the right place, but with how much he’d been in his workshop since the talk with Kirk. I had the feeling he wasn’t doing too well.

“Hopefully?” I said.

Theo sighed. “Hopefully we don’t miss it when he comes back, you know?” he said. “I haven’t been keeping perfect track of the time but…we’ve been here a while. A year, maybe more, and I’m thinking…what if Jack’s already awake and he’s causing chaos? All of those people he’ll kill cause I’m not there to fight him, and then there’s the end of the world.”

“Right now. We don’t have a choice but to focus on what’s in front of us,” I said, but Theo was already shaking his head.

“Our actions have consequences and we should always think about that,” he said. “It’s how we become better people.”

“Yeah. Sure. But there’s a difference between that and being guilty about stuff that’s beyond our control. You did what you did with Jack to save your life. Anyone in your position would have done the same thing. You’ve been training to limit the consequences, but this came out of left field. It’s not like you could have guarded against it or been good enough to stop it. Give yourself some slack.”

Theo only sighed and I couldn’t be sure if I’d gotten through to him.

Alex, Lazelos Phassios and Malario Sanerah left a day later, with three horses, food and some silk. They had no money, but the Braavosi were sure that they could get a ship that would take them home without having to pay.

“Stay safe out there,” said Theo.

“Tell people where you’re going next,” said Everett. “For when…” but the words tapered off.

“I will,” said Kirk. He looked at me, but I was looking at Lazelos Phassios and Malario Sanerah. It was near noon and the skies were clear, but a cloud dimmed the sun’s light. Lazelos Phassios and Malario Sanerah looked up and then back at me.

“It goes without saying,” I said and the sound was joined by the crackling hiss of a swarm of bugs, from the air and from the ground, loud enough it spooked their horses.

“Your threat is quite loud and is being the clarity of crystal, Weaving Goddess,” said Lazelos Phassios. He put on a smile but it was strained.

I nodded.

“Goodbye, Kirk.”

“Bye,” he said.

The three left.

⸸

The preparations for Riverrun took two weeks. Time I spent spreading out my spiders so I could get them back when I returned. We spread out the hives further apart so people wouldn’t accidentally run into them. There were people who knew how to safely get honey, but it was decided it was better to let things lie until I got back; this would give the bees enough time to naturally build up their honey reserves. I’d still been producing silk and that would be the gift we gave to Tullys.

Everett and Theo spent most of their time with the maesters, telling them some of the stuff we’d learnt in school as well general stuff about Earth Bet, with Maester Cedrik asking for expansions as he deemed necessary.

Our next shipment of food arrived, wagons filled with food, protected by close to twenty armed men. They didn’t bring only food, they also brought gossip. It seemed that things had started. There was a band of bandits roving through the Riverlands, burning farms and killing villagers.

Most likely retaliation for the Lannister son being taken to Riverrun.

I couldn’t help it, but my mind turned towards politics, and how Lord Tully might want us to deal with us instead of us paying him money for the land. Which I didn’t mind because it’d be two birds with one stone. Helping people that were suffering for something they weren’t involved in and getting something out of it.

“I was wondering, my lady,” said Leana, three days before we were set to leave. “If I could accompany you on your trip to Riverrun.”

“Any particular reason why?” I asked.

She looked down. “I have always wanted to travel, my lady,” she said. “It broke my heart that all of my travels came at moments of suffering. I want to make good experiences while travelling so they may take the place of the nightmares.”

“Okay,” I said. “It’s not going to be a fancy trip or anything, though. No staying in castles or whatever. Camping mostly. If you’re willing to put up with that, then you can come.”

“Thank you, my lady,” she said, relief palpable in her voice. “Is it allowed that I bring Cinder and Ember?”

“If you’re comfortable bringing them,” I said. We took from our stock of food. There were cannisters for water and we filled those up, stowing them on carriages. We talked to people about the effect Everett and me leaving would have.

There would be more bugs, flies would come back and so would fleas and ticks on the livestock. There were mosquito eggs in the outhouses and they’d hatch while I was gone—not to mention that I’d no longer be watching if people were washing their hands after, which I hoped had become habit. Everett controlled electricity and the access to it, so without him there would be no lights and they’d have to use the hot water urn with care.

“You should still be able to generate electricity, though,” said Everett to Theo, while Maester Cedrik and his acolytes watched, taking notes. “The only thing I really did was make the magnets while everything else is just normal tech. But if anything breaks down, _don’t_ fix it.”

“Sure,” said Theo. “I’m not good with electrics anyway.”

There were three of us who left, early in the morning while the sun was still rising. We moved at a slow pace, first going down the hill, the long road wound three times around the hill before we moved south.

I drove our carriage while Everett charted our path, picking ground that would cause the least trouble and conferring with his map. I worked in the small scale, spreading out bugs to get a sense of topography to choose the best path. It took us almost a week before we spotted a small village surrounded by large farmland.

“Didn’t know that there was a village this close,” said Everett, wearing a deep frown.

“You seem bothered, my lord,” said Leana.

“I just don’t like that even with the latest map we missed this place,” he said. We stopped before reaching the village and he pulled out his map, making a marker.

I shrugged. “We don’t really travel this way,” I said. “Should we stop in? It’d be another source for food.”

Everett nodded and we went into the village. It wasn’t that large, no less than a hundred and fifty people, their buildings clustered together while their land was spread apart. The buildings were mostly wood with thatched roofs, only two wells shared by everyone.

There was an inn there and we chose to visit it.

“Not every day that we get travels ‘round these parts,” a man said, stinking of sour beer. He wore dirtied clothes, but he didn’t look dirty himself. Instead he looked like he’d had a hard day’s work.

“Just passing through,” said Everett with a smile. He’d ordered beer and so had Leana. I’d chosen water. People back in Oldstones had started buying beer and I’d found that I didn’t like it. Everett had found that he _did_ and that struck me as odd. The stuff tasted both bitter and watered down. How could _anyone_ like it?

“Aye? Where ye headed?” the man said.

“Raventree Hall,” said Everett. “Hoping to have an audience with Lord Blackwood.”

“That’ll be hard,” said a woman a table over. “With all this talk of bandits in the Riverlands, Lord Blackwood should have his hosts out searching for them. Doubt you’ll catch him in his keep.”

“You’ll have to be careful with the stock you have,” said the man. “It might get stolen with only the three of you.”

“That won’t be a problem,” I said.

“You a fighter?” the man said, his eyes on Everett. “Saw the queer armour and sword you have. Though from your frame. I can’t see you wearing it or it protecting you.”

“We’re gods,” I said.

Everett shot me a look. He still didn’t like that, even if he’d accepted it from others calling us that because it was hard to shake.

The man’s eyes went wide and he went pale.

“You the ones from Oldstones?” he said. “I heard there were witches there.”

“We’re _not_ witches,” Leana said, her face suddenly red.

The man went paler. He stumbled back, stumbled down into a kneel.

“My apologies, my lady,” he stammered. “I meant no offence.”

“It’s okay,” said Everett, quickly. “You didn’t offend anyone, right?”

Leana looked down. “Apologies for my outburst,” she said. “The beer must be going to my head.”

I took her hand in mine, offering her a smile. “Yeah, we’re from Oldstones. Who’s the leader of your village? We want to talk about buying some of your produce.”

“Not buying it _now,”_ said Everett. “We just want it known that Oldstones is open as a place to sell your wares, that sort of stuff. We’re closer than Fairmarket and we offer good prices.”

“We usually sell to Raventree Hall, my lord,” said the man. “Or barter from the next village over for some of their fruits and vegetables.”

“We’re not forcing you into anything,” said Everett. “But if you _want_ to come to sell, then Oldstones is open for business.”

“Thank you for the offer, my lord,” the man said. “I…should go…”

“Sure,” I said.

“You shouldn’t have said that,” said Everett. “Now people are going to be weird.”

“It was because I had a problem I was going to deal with,” I said. I stood. “Excuse me!”

People turned in my direction. They’d been listening to our conversation with the man and they were on edge, with the furthest off muttering between themselves.

“I’m Weaver of Oldstones.”

To prove this, bugs started flying into the room, moving with intelligence through the air and coming to hover above me. I heard breaths of shock, while others went stock still. One man got up from his chair, stumbled back and ran out the door.

I didn’t stop him.

“We’ll be sleeping here tonight,” I said, “which will give you time to spread the word. Tomorrow a lot of bugs will be in the air, they will clear the rat infestation you have here. I’d like it if no one panicked and thought it was an attack. Thank you.”

“Could have done that in secret,” Everett muttered when I was sitting again.

“Too much work,” I said with a shrug.

We slept and the next morning I got to work. Most people were in their houses hiding as the bugs flew into the air, darkening the sky, but a few of them peek out to watch me work. They had granaries but they weren’t that large, set in buildings that were raised from the ground but still showed signs of rats getting in.

I did a walkthrough of the village, finding and killing rats before hiding them and having my bugs feast on them. We left early in the evening, with my swarm disappearing into the ground.

Stories were already starting as we moved on.

We passed three more villages over then next week in varying sizes, each of which Everett marked on his map. Some focused more on farming while others focused a lot on livestock. We passed a farm that had over seventy sheep and we told them that we’d be willing to buy some in Oldstones, or any wool they were selling.

It seemed that word about us had already passed through, with some of the villagers having seen Kathy and the others while they’d been heading to King’s Landing. But there was a terse atmosphere the more we moved south, with people worried that we might be bandits scoping out their land for an attack.

We reached the first sign of the bandits two weeks in, the husk of a town, tracts of land black from fires and buildings dilapidated. We found three people who’d been hanged by their necks on a tree, their bodies blistered by the elements.

“Talk about bandits didn’t seem real until now,” said Everett.

“It is often like this,” Leana said, her voice quiet. “The lords fight and it is the smallfolk who suffer.”

“Which is a whole lot of fucked up,” said Everett. “We should bury them.”

I nodded.

It didn’t take too long. Everett opened a hole with his sword and filled it back in. We kept moving.

Another village that had escaped the burnings, but people looked at us with suspicion. A lot of the talk I heard was that people whose villages had been burnt were wondering in, but that we didn’t look like we’d lost everything. We looked too clean.

A boy, early teen, tried to steal stuff out of our carriage but I scared him off after grabbing some onions, which made word pass that the gods of Oldstones were in the village. We left after that.

The path we were taking took us closer to the tall mountains that divided the Riverlands and the Westerlands. They were beautiful to see up close, especially when we were used to hills that sloped up and down, but they made the ground more treacherous. Everett took the time to make scans of the ground, of the type of material there, all of which he jotted down.

It was on the third week, travelling along a path, that people tried to jump us. They weren’t on horseback and they weren’t wearing armour, but they carried shoddy swords. They had the look of desperation on them, made worse because they looked young.

It was easy to stop them, bugs filled the air and chased them off, but it left a pit in my stomach because they likely came from a village that’d been destroyed.

“Hark!” said a man. I’d sensed him and the others a while ago. There were six of them, on horses, four carrying swords and two with bows and arrows, all wearing good quality clothing. The lead man had a hard expression about him, his nose turned up. “Who are you and where does your path take you?”

“I’m Eve—”

“Weaver of Oldstones,” I said, already pulling bugs up. I had no idea why Everett insisted on stretching things out when we already had the clout. “This is Tecton, and our ward Mastiff.” I felt Leana go stiff. “We go to Raventree Hall to visit Lord Blackwood.”

The man had stopped at the sight of the bugs, all of which were framing us.

“My lady,” the man said. “It is unfortunate that you have travelled such a long way for nought. But Lord Blackwood has departed for Riverrun. Lord Tully has called for him.”

“Good thing we’re also headed there,” said Everett. I ignored that he was shooting a scowl at me.

“It would be our honour to escort you,” the man said. “The roads have become dangerous of late.”

“We can take care of ourselves,” said Everett. “You should keep looking for these bandits. Protect the innocents that are caught up in all of this.”

“Of course, my lord. My lady.”

We reached Raventree Hall quickly after that and decided it was better to just go past instead of heading in. We still had good supplies and the map this close to a settlement was more detailed, we could get more there if it was needed. Not to mention that staying in Raventree would extend the time it took to get to Riverrun.

At the next town we found gossip.

“…always knew there was something bent with those Lannisters,” a woman said, her voice loud amongst the din. There was a singer not too far away, a lute filling the air. _“Oldest_ one is an oath breaker, and the littlest one a demon. Now _incest.”_

“It’s a good thing the gods stepped in,” a man said. “Setting his own children to death? King Robert might be worse than King Aerys in some respects.”

“Well they’re not _his_ children, are they?” said the woman. “They’re the children of Jaimie and Cersei Lannister.”

“Don’t mean they should die for it,” the man muttered. “Good on the goods. But it’ll mean trouble for Oldstones pretty soon. Them and their treason.”

“This is what it feels like,” said Everett when we were in our room. “You hear all this news and it stresses you the fuck out. Gets you thinking all sorts of things.”

“Do you think this could have anything to do with why Blackwood’s gone to Riverrun? Maybe he knows something’s going on?”

Everett shrugged, but since we were still close to Raventree Hall, we decided to turn back.

The trip back took less than a day and Everett didn’t scowl at me this time when I used the clout of being gods to fast track the process. We only had to wait a few minutes before someone was called and the same man who’d led the escort of Maester Cedrik and his acolytes stood before us.

Raventree Hall was beautiful, with grey walls overgrown with moss. They hadn’t had Kirk on their walls, but there was a majesty to them. The main gate had two large towers where archers sat at the top, watching all who approached. The gates themselves had been pulled up, but I could feel the mix of wood and metal.

Tall as the walls were, I could see their castle, sitting atop a short hill, but with towers that stretched up to the sky and put our castle to shame.

With us so close, the castle and its grounds were fully in my range and I’d already tagged everyone within. They had a lot of people working within the castle, a lot of soldiers that were going through their sparring sessions. On the walls, they had a few patrolmen.

“You’re wearing Lord Blackwood’s insignia,” I said. “And you’re not pussyfooting, it like others who have other insignia on them.”

“That is because I am of house Blackwood, my lady,” the man said. He was still young though, Everett’s age. 

“You didn’t tell us who you are, my lord,” said Everett, a look that told me to stop pushing. I leaned back, closing my mouth. I didn’t like being lied to, that he’d stayed a few days in our castle and I hadn’t figured out who he was. That he hadn’t told us. I’d thought he was just some knight of some standing.

“Forgive me for my deception,” he said. “I wanted…a clearer view of you and yours, and if I were to tell you who I was, it would be a mummer’s farce.”

“That’s rude, though,” said Everett, the words more gentle than I would have said them. Maybe I wasn’t being gracious enough, maybe I was on edge about the others and what I’d heard, especially off the back of Kirk leaving. It felt like the dangers of this world were so much closer. “Not introducing yourself while living with us, eating our food.”

“And for that you have my apologies,” he said.

“Who are you?” I asked, my tone with more force than I’d meant.

“Edmund Blackwood, my lady,” he said and he bowed a little. “A pleasure to truly meet you.”

“You too,” said Everett, cutting off the sardonic words I’d been about to mutter.

“It’s good to see you again, Leana,” Edmund said and Leana stepped back, her head tilted down. Even so I could still see her blush. Had they met? Did they have a thing going on? How could I trust him with her when he was so sneaky?

“You too, my lord,” the last said as if an afterthought.

“We came here looking for information, actually,” said Everett, pulling the conversation back. “We were already past here, headed to Riverrun when we heard rumours of Grace and the others stealing the king’s children.”

“You hadn’t heard,” said Edmund. “But then, I’ve only recently found out and it’s the reason my father has been called to Riverrun.”

“It’s true?” I asked. “That they stole the king’s kids?”

“The children of Cersei and Jaime Lannister,” Edmund corrected. “Born of incest. King Robert was to have them executed when the gods sought fit step in, shield them from the king’s wrath.”

“They’re in Riverrun, now?” Everett asked.

Edmund nodded. “Yes. They have refused to turn over the children to Lord Tully and he hopes my lord Father will be the one who’ll be able to convince them to do so.”

“So they can be killed?” I said.

 _First kidnapping the queen’s brother and now her children. How much do they hate the Lannisters?_ But it would have to be a lot, because the Lannisters were burning down villages in Lord Tully’s territory.

“What is to be done to them is unknown to me,” he said. “I arrived after Father had already departed. All I’ve heard is from my elder brothers, Lucas and Hoster.”

“Can you send a message?” Everett asked. “That they stay there. That we’re on our way and it’s better if we discuss this?”

“Of course, my lord and lady,” he said. “And I offer you Raventree Hall’s hospitality until a return message has been received.”

“No,” I said. “We’ll keep moving. The sooner we’re off, the sooner we can get there.”

“If we leave, they might be gone and we’ll miss that,” said Everett. “It’s better if we wait. See what’s going on.”

I swallowed but said nothing. I’d have to make sure to keep an eye on this people. Edmund had already lied to me and I could imagine him thinking he could get one over on me again because of that success.

“Please,” said Edmund. “Follow me into the castle. My younger sibling will be most happy to meet the rest of Oldstones’ gods.”

We followed.

⸸

I couldn’t relax in Raventree Hall.

The people were nice and treated us well. There was a lot of food out in the mornings, afternoon and evenings, all excellently prepared. But just about everything about the place was something I didn’t want.

People were enthralled by our powers but I didn’t feel like showing off; the Blackwood kids and grandkids wanted to talk to me, but I wasn’t up for it; and Edmund seemed to have taken a liking to Leana and vice versa, and I didn’t trust that.

Even the familiar face of Maester Wynne didn’t do me any good.

“You’ll have to forgive my curtness,” I said to him, after he tried for the fifth time to get me to tell him what we’d already shared with Maester Cedrik. I was already irritable, but that made me feel worse. Unlike the others, my education had been stunted by Emma, Sophia and Madison, and it felt like I didn’t know much about things. Studying was part of the terms of my working with the Wards, but the six months I’d spent studying between everything else hadn’t been enough.

“My mind is on the rest of my team,” I finished.

“Oh, worry not, my lady,” he said with a genial smile. “I understand how these matters can enrapture the mind and keep all else away. I shall give you time to ponder on these occurrences.”

He left, which gave me time to pay attention to the information my bugs were feeding me, of the movements of these people and the conversations they shared in secret. Not that they were a secretive people to begin with, just with a healthy amount of paranoia.

 _Gotta remember that people are starting to know about your ‘godly’ knowledge,_ I thought. _Edmund was able to keep a secret. They might know not to share certain things._

But it didn’t feel right. They might know it had something to do with my bugs, but I doubted they’d know everything in totality. I was proved right by the fact that they still talked about sensitive matters within my range.

I heard as Lucas Blackwood teased Edmund about him trying to court Leana, and Edmund’s return that he was securing their future by birthing children that would have godly powers. I caught more than one sign of adultery that I had to ignore; heard arguments between spouses; and I heard of the letters King Robert had sent out all across Westeros.

“There’s more to things than just incest,” I shared with Everett, early in the morning on the third day of our stay. “King Robert suspects that Cersei and Jamie Lannister had something to do with the death of the last Hand of the King. Incest is more important than murder for some reason.”

“Doesn’t this seem suspicious, though?” said Everett. “I mean, all of this started with the Starks kidnapping one of the Lannisters, and now magically _all_ of the family committed crimes?”

“We saw the villages that they burnt,” I said.

“That were burned by unknown bandits,” Everett said. “We _think_ that they’re Lannisters because we expect them to retaliate, but do we actually know?”

“You think there’s something more?” I said.

“What I know about the Lannisters is that they have a gold mine,” said Everett. “And maybe the Starks and the king want that. So they’re starting some war and pretending that it’s justified. If you look at the pieces, how neatly they fall and paint the Lannisters as just the ultimate evil…”

“It’s a possibility,” I said. “We should wait for the others before making conclusions.”

The return letter arrived that evening. I heard the discussion and the eventual decision to read the letter first before sending it to us. They sealed it with wax, waited a few hours for the wax to dry before giving to us.

We didn’t say anything.

Everett took it and read it.

“It’s from Grace,” he said. “Romp’s already on her way to take us back to Riverrun.”

I felt an _amount_ relief, but not all the way. The others had stolen the king’s kids. They wouldn’t have gotten out of King’s Landing without a fight. Even if they had powers, they could still be overwhelmed by numbers.

The days seemed to crawl as we waited for Olivia.

She arrived two days later. She’d been travelling alone for the last three days and she seemed tired, but her smile was bright as she saw us.

“Everyone alive?” I said.

“Last we know,” she said. “Alex chose to stay behind so things didn’t go tits up.”

 _“Fuck,”_ said Everett.

“What I thought about it, but no one listens to me. But with how things turned out, he’s doing a good job,” she said. “No one’s dead like we thought they’d be. We thought the king killed the queen and her brother, but that didn’t happen.”

“Explain.”

“Food first,” she said. “You have no fuckin’ idea how much I’ve been pushing it to get here this quickly.”

“There should be something prepared, my lady,” said Hoster Blackwood. He’d been the one to lead Olivia to the little garden we’d chosen to sit in this morning, and he’d been listening to our conversation.

 _Probably should have sent him away before asking if anyone was dead,_ I thought, but I’d been worried all morning.

Leana sat on the ground, Cinder and Ember dozing on her. She seemed content to watch the birds and it was the only reason I hadn’t lost my shit already. Everett and I sat on a stone chair, leaning against the face of the castle, watching the little town that had sprouted outside of Raventree Hall’s walls.

“Bring it here,” Olivia said, lazily waving him off. “Don’t wanna move if I have a choice. And these guys are chomping at the bits to get my sweet, sweet intel.”

Hoster frowned at the order, but he left nonetheless.

“Explain everything that’s been going on,” I said.

“Sure. Sure,” she said. “Okay. So, it started after Eddie’s wife kidnapped Joffrey’s uncle for trying to kill her son.”

“You’re giving me a lot of names I don’t know,” said Everett.

“You want me to tell this or what?” said Romp, her tone short, her expression reminding me a little of Kathy. She started to paint the picture. Of Eddard Stark investigating a murder and the involvement of the Lannisters, of Petyr Baelish pointing them towards Tyrion Lannister, the reveal that it was a lie by Petyr but the unknown turn that meant Petyr wasn’t the one who faced punishment.

“A lot doesn’t make sense with your story,” I said.

We stopped as the food arrived, fruits and cheeses. I expected Olivia to say she wanted real food but she took it without a second thought and began gobbling it down. The servant left but Hoster stayed.

“Thank you,” I said. He frowned again as he left.

“A lot doesn’t make sense because it doesn’t make sense,” said Olivia through a mouthful of food. “Petyr tells the king that the queen and Jamie were boning, but what does that do about the lie? Why wasn’t he punished when Eddie boy was hit over the head?” 

“This is all such a mess,” Everett muttered. “But at least you saved the kids.”

Olivia nodded. “But now they’re stuck in Riverrun,” she muttered eating her fruit. Grapes burst, juice spilling out of her mouth. My nose scrunched. She wiped at it without worry. “We _could_ fight our way out, but Kathy said that’d be a bad idea. The king already sent out letters to have us captured. Horses couldn’t catch up to us but the travel’s been a pain…wait, why are you guys out of Oldstones?”

“We found a coal mine and we wanted to get it from Lord Tully,” I said. “Back to the kids. They want them?”

Olivia nodded. “They haven’t told us what they want to do with them, but they don’t want them to go to Tywin Lannister that’s for sure.”

“Why?” Everett asked.

“They keep talking about the king wanting the children,” said Olivia. “That they have to go back to King’s Landing. But we don’t trust that and we don’t trust the king after he ordered them dead in the first place. Things _could_ be better with there being a trial, but…” she shrugged.

“What’s Kathy been thinking? Where’s her head been?” Everett asked.

“Try talking things out with Blackwood, see if we can find another way to sort all of this out,” she said. “But if that doesn’t work, we’re just going to bust down doors, send the kids to Casterly Rock and deal with whatever happens after that.”

“The crimes that they were accused of,” I said. “How likely is it they’re true?”

“The murder part is the only thing we know about really,” said Olivia. “Everything else we heard from other people. We didn’t even know about the incest until a few knights who cornered us shouted it at Joffrey when he tried to order them to stop.”

“Tell us about the murder,” I said.

Olivia stretched. “Eddie was investigating it before shit hit the fan. He was calling all these people who’d know more. Another of the king’s brothers, Stan or something. He got the message from the murdered guy’s wife, Eddie’s sister in law.”

“Okay,” said Everett, his eyes closed. “So…Queen and her brother are…doing it and they have kids. They kill the last Hand of the king and Eddie finds out about it, he investigates and Petyr fits in how?”

“Oh. Well, someone tried to kill Eddie’s kid. Eddie talks to Petyr. Petyr said Joffrey’s uncle was the one who tried to kill the kid, which is why Eddie’s wife kidnapped him.”

“But that was a lie,” said Everett. Olive nodded.

A _lot_ didn’t make sense. Olive told us everything she knew but it left more questions about the greater ordeal. Made worse by the insidious conspiracy that Everett had filed into my head. But when I thought about it for a second, it didn’t make sense. All of this seemed to stem from one thing, the murder—and maybe the incest because it felt likely that was the reason behind the murder—and everything else being because of lies.

And whether we liked it or not, we were in the middle of it. Having to weigh multiple wants and needs because of it. We wanted a patch of land to collect its coal, a good relationship between us, Lord Tully and the king, but those kids couldn’t be hurt because of something beyond their control.

“I’m thinking that we take them in,” I said, more to Everett than anyone else. He looked up at me. “We can’t take them to their grandfather because that’ll complicate things with Lord Tully. But we’re not going to let those kids die.”

“That goes without saying,” said Everett. He nodded. “I think I have a sense how you want to play this. We see how things play out and we move on from there.”

I nodded.

“But that complicates our bid to get land,” said Everett. “And it won’t make any friends. We kept saying we don’t want to get involved in this place’s politics—”

“That ship’s sailed,” Olivia said through a mouthful.

“This’ll shift that dynamic,” he said.

“Then let’s play into it,” I said. “It was only a matter of time, right? We came here knowing we might have to deal with all the politics, there’s no use running away from it now.”

“But that’s different. We came here thinking he’d want us to be subjects, maybe, people in his territory who’ll follow his rules. This will be on a whole other level. If we take those kids, especially without the permission of Lord Tully or the king we’re losing them as friends.”

“We don’t fucking need them as friends, though,” said Olivia. “I hate how much we’ve been fucking sneaking around like we’re afraid of them. They can bring their armies and we’ll show them they aren’t shit.”

“One,” said Everett, “that’s not how we do things. Two, that’d cause a lot of problems.”

Olivia looked at me for help and I shrugged. Everett was right. In a straight up fight we’d win even against an army, but they didn’t have to fight us directly. We still needed food and they could pressure farms and villages not to sell to us. And there was the societal cost that such a war would bring. A lot of people would die. Not something we wanted on our heads.

Olivia shrugged. “Then I don’t know what you want to happen,” she said. “My solution is more simple. You scare people enough and eventually they stop coming after you.”

Which resonated with me. It was a thin line between scaring people off and forcing them to pool resources to come at you, but Olivia was right. Sometimes it was better to throw our weight around, get what we wanted and stop people from doing something stupid.

“The kids don’t _need_ to die,” said Everett. “Maybe the king was angry and that’s why he tried to kill the kids. Or maybe the signals were crossed somewhere and the right thing wasn’t heard. But the fact that he’s holding a trial means he’s thinking things through. He should know that the kids don’t deserve this.”

“Kathy already thought about that and Joffrey said that it was the ‘claim’ Robert was afraid of,” said Olivia. “Joffrey’s his first-born son, and he and his grandfather can make a stink about this if it’s not proven that he’s not really their dad.”

“So we hold them until it’s proven, right?” said Everett. “It’s that simple. We tell this to Lord Tully, send a message to the king. That we’ll bring the kids to King’s Landing for the trial, and that if everything is proven true, he won’t fight it. There won’t be a claim or whatever.”

“Except Joffrey still thinks Robert’s his dad,” said Olivia. “All of the kids still do. They don’t believe all this. Myrcella and Tommen don’t even believe that their dad tried to kill them. They think it’s Olly because he’s the one who attacked them. Joffrey’s the only whose taking this seriously, but even there…” She shrugged.

“Then hopefully we can explain it to him,” said Everett. “Everything can still work out. We just…we just have to be patient, limit the number of enemies and play everything as safely as we can. Talk things out with all the players involved and make them see reason. Discussion should _always_ be the first option.” 

 _More optimism than I’m feeling,_ I thought, but I didn’t question it. After Kirk, Everett needed this. He needed a clear win or he wouldn’t make it through being stuck here. I had to help him through that, but I also had to make sure that Oldstones was kept safe and whole.

Every day it felt more unlikely we’d ever go back to Earth Bet, ever go back home, and I wanted to build Oldstones into a place we could comfortably call home.

Hopefully, those two goals wouldn’t be mutually exclusive.


	12. Chapter 12

**Grace**

“I still don’t understand why we continue to live in this squalor when the Tullys offered better board in their castle,” said Joffrey. The boy had sharp features and pale skin, the type of blond that meant he had pale eyebrows, which made his green eyes more expressive. All of that prettiness was messed up by the fact that he had a scar just above his eye.

I closed my hand, feeling a dull throb of pain. I focused on it, which stirred up memories of the fight with Olly. The mistakes I’d made and how I could be better. Hindsight was twenty-twenty and on mental review all the mistakes I’d made were making me cringe.

All the training I’d done and all the combat I’d seen.

Taylor and I weren’t really friends, no matter how much I tried, but there were times when we got along. Thinking through combat strategy was one of those times. We’d break down fights, thinking about all the ways we could have done things better and maybe teach each other tips and tricks.

That was coming back to bite me in the ass because whenever I let my mind drift. I thought back to Olly.

Taylor had killed Alexandria, the strongest non-Endbringer brute in the world. The _Endbringers_ had tried to kill Alexandria and they hadn’t succeeded. It was awful that she’d killed her, but I’d liked the approach, the frame of mind that could do the impossible and so I’d asked her.

The answer had been disappointing. She’d been angry and just gone on the attack, no real thought beyond shooting in the dark, listening for a scream and then shooting in the direction of that scream.

 _Yikes on that metaphor,_ my mind provided and Alex was so wrapped up in my mental voice that a snort left me. I tried to hold it but it came out in a sudden bark of laughter.

Joffrey turned, his expression twisting as his cheeks went red. His eyes passed over the room. It was small with a central table, a wall separating the meagre bedrooms, but all of our people were here. There were close to fifteen of us at the table, there’d been more at the start of our journey, but some had asked to be left behind while we’d been passing through a village.

“Joffrey,” said Ava, her voice gentle. Joffrey flinched. “Right now we don’t know if we can trust the Tullys. We’re already trusting them too much by cooking the food they gave us, but doing any more than that is dangerous.”

“You think they’d poison us?” said Joffrey.

“It’s possible,” said Ava with a shrug. “Everything that’s been happening…” She stopped, glancing at Myrcella and Tommen. The latter was still groggy, not really paying attention to the conversation while the former looked down, her focus on her breakfast.

We’d only been gone a few weeks but all three of them were thinner. The trip hadn’t been the best. Ava had been hurt, cut up by Olly when they’d fought; my hand had been an ass for a while because the Vallary steel sword had cut _deep;_ and then there’d been the lords who’d thought it was a good idea to try and harass us.

Food had been tough to find and when we had it hadn’t had any salt, something the Baratheon kids weren’t used to. We’d had to stray from paths at the risk of being found and this had meant being away from water. I’d gotten a fever, which had meant us having to stop in a small village for a few days while Ava and I were treated.

I didn’t blame Joffrey for wanting a little comfort.

“You’re not going to leave us with them, will you?” said Joffrey, his expression quickly shifting to fear. “You said you’d take us to our grandfather.”

Ava looked at me.

“That’s the plan,” I said, closing my hand and feeling the dull throb.

 _A plan that’s all levels of complicated right now,_ I thought. I let my mind drift, going back to Olly.

All other shit aside. I’d felt alive during that fight and now that it was over, my mind kept drifting back to it.

“Then why are we still here?” said Joffrey. “Why are we still pretending that they have a leg to stand on? You have power, _real_ power, you could just sneak us out and if that doesn’t work, fight your way through. You managed to get out of King’s Landing and there were a lot more people in the way there.”

“And after that, what then?” I asked.

There must have been something in my tone because Joffrey sobered and Ava’s expression turned worried. I swallowed, clenching tight my still throbbing hand.

I wanted to focus on setting a path forward, figuring shit out. But…Everett and Taylor would be here in a day or so, and they’d handle this shit. After a long month I’d get to relax for a bit, not have to worry about putting my foot in my mouth or thinking about all the political shit each statement, each _action_ meant.

I longed for it. I _yearned_ for that release because it felt like the responsibility was crushing.

“Think about it,” said Ava. Through all this she’d been gentle. If it weren’t for her. If it weren’t for Olive then I worried about how the people who’d stayed this long would have fared. “Not just about you, but about us. We live in the Riverlands, that’s where our friends are. If we left here on bad terms what would happen to them? Our home?”

“But you saved us even though it made Fa—” He stopped. “Even though it angered the king. How is this so different?”

“Because there’s still room for us to work this out,” said Ava. “Fighting should _always_ be the last option. You should do everything you can to avoid it. When we left…” She swallowed. “When we left, we hurt a lot of people. Some may even be dead because of us. We can’t just do that again.”

“I’m sorry, my lady, but you might have to,” Joffrey said. He looked close to tears but he steeled himself. “If Father believes what those men said, then…then there is nothing he won’t do to see me and my siblings dead. And Lord Tully is sworn to him. He’ll enforce Father’s will.”

“That we’ll stop,” I said. “But first we need to know if there’s any way we can talk this out.”

“Your people believe too much in diplomacy,” Joffrey muttered taking off in a pace.

“War is _never_ good,” said Ava. “I mean…the stuff that comes after might be good. But the war itself?” She shook her head.

The Tully’s castle was smaller than the Red Keep, but it was subdivided so all of the people who worked within had places to sleep. They’d offered to give us rooms in the castle proper, but with images of Brynden Seedwill in my mind, I’d declined and asked that they give us some place else. So now we lived in abandoned barracks, where there were cracks in the walls and the roof wasn’t quite well covered. The building was close to the perimeter wall and close to stables and that meant if the wind was wrong the smell of shit would hit us.

But we were all together and that’s what mattered.

For most of the day we kept ourselves secluded. I spent a lot of time with Barden because I needed the comfort he offered, something to make me forget about how things kept on happening without letting me breathe.

“How’s your hand?” Barden asked.

“Still healing,” I said. “I don’t have the fever anymore so that’s a relief.”

“If I ever see that Olly again,” Barden muttered. His hand disappeared and I felt a gust of wind that moved through my hair before it disappeared.

“My knight in shining armour,” I said.

Barden’s smile was too bright.

“He’s up to something, that Olly.”

“You keep saying,” said Barden. “Your mind has been on him.”

“I don’t like that he thinks he beat me,” I said and shrugged. “Maybe it’s my ego talking but I want to sock him.”

“Even a loss does not diminish that fact that you’re the most fearsome warrior of all the gods,” he said.

“Smooth,” I said and I leaned against his shoulder.

“Aren’t I just,” said Barden. We were quiet for a moment, watching as people working. Our quarters were close to the stables and we could see as horses were being fed. He sighed. “Is it odd that I miss my parents? Does it make you think less of me?”

“If anything it makes me love you even more,” I said. “Family is the most important thing.”

Barden nodded. “I never thought I would be away from them,” he said. “My father worked at a farm and I had started to work. I knew that at best I would live with my parents until they died. That the house would be mine and whatever livestock we’d have raised. Not for a second did I consider I would fall in love with a goddess, go to King’s Landing and meet the king. Speak to the prince as an equal.”

“You know,” I said and I hesitated. “If things get too much you can just leave. We can break things off and you can build your own farm.”

Barden snorted. “That’s not the life I want,” he said. “I…never _dreamed._ I knew what my life would be and it left me unhappy. As terrifying as it is to fight against better trained men, near armies, being at your side is purpose I never knew I lacked.”

“Fuck _you,_ Barden, you’re gonna make me choke up,” I said, letting out a chuckle even as my cheeks felt hot. I kissed him, everything getting a little further away and my stress easing as I got lost in the kiss. Joffrey and the mess with the king. Olly who I wanted to give a knuckle sandwich. Everything.

But just as quickly it all came back with a clearing of the throat.

“Gerrard,” I said. “Something up?”

“Potential trouble, my lady,” said Gerrard. He wasn’t wearing armour or carrying a sword. He looked like he’d had a good bath and his hair looked in better condition. It made me jealous. “The Lannisters are close. They attacked villages three days ride from Riverrun. Lord Edmure will be moving some of the forces he has to search for the raiders.”

“Are you sure it’s the Lannisters?” I asked.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense, my lady,” he said. “A Lannister always pays their debts, and this is the price to be paid for the taking of Tyrion Lannister.”

Who wasn’t even in Riverrun but in a place called the Eyrie. We’d come here thinking we’d avoid the worst and that hadn’t happened because of bad information.

“How much does that fuck with our plan to give Joffrey to Tywin?”

“Royally, my lady,” he said.

Barden guffawed. A snort escaped me before I could help it. Gerrard smiled.

“You know us, Gerrard. You know that we won’t give those kids back if they’re going to be killed, right?”

“I do, my lady,” he said. His smile slipped. “I’ve communicated this to Lord Blackwood and…he’s prepared to stand with you should you stand against Lord Edmure.”

“Targaryens and dragons,” I muttered. It felt so long ago that Taylor and I had talked about them, about Blackwood’s fear of what _we_ would mean.

“I don’t want that,” I said. “I don’t think the others would.”

_Though I’m not sure about Taylor. She was a warlord. This could be second nature for her._

But then she had all of this time to start making moves and she hadn’t. At a certain point I had to take it at face value that Taylor wouldn’t fall back to her old ways.

I nodded. “You’ll tell us if they try something?” I asked.

“You have my word and oath as a knight, my lady,” he said.

“Thank you, Gerrard. I don’t think we could have made it here without you.”

“It’s a pleasure to be in your service, my lady. I should get back to Lord Blackwood, tell him I have passed on the message.”

“Sure.”

We watched him as he walked back to the castle.

“So can we kiss again?” said Barden

“We can practise climbing this wall in case we need to escape,” I said.

“Anything that means I’m with you.”

My grin was dopey as I said, “You’re on a roll today.”

£

“Fire!”

“Fire!”

“Fire!”

A part of me had been waiting for _something_ and it was that part of me that meant I was already awake and running for the room with the Baratheon kids. Ava was with them and I trusted her, but the more numbers to protect them the better.

Ava was already awake and getting her armour on. Tommen was in tears, hugging his sister tightly, while Joffrey stood ramrod straight, stuck at the furthest point from the door.

“Fire!”  The sound came outside and from far away. There were much closer sounds, horses neighing and padding feet.

“Stay here. I’ll check it out,” I said. Ava, with most of her armour on, nodded. Our people were awake, clustering themselves together and looking at me for guidance. “Don’t panic. I’ll check and report back.”

“Should I come with you?” said Barden, his shirt finally managing to slip over his head.

I shook my head. “Protect our people.”

We didn’t have any more fighters. The ones we’d had had turned on us because we’d kept the kids from the king. What we had were blacksmiths, all of them young, and dysters and dexters, who were women who hadn’t seen combat or old men. Gerrard was one of ours but he spent most of his time with Lord Blackwood in the castle, and Merwyn had gone back to his lord after leaving King’s Landing.

I felt a small pang as I thought about Alex. Alone in King’s Landing. And all because I hadn’t wanted to be there.

It was dark as I got out of our barrack, but I could see the red glow from the other side of the grounds, hidden partially by the castle. There was motion from the stables, people rushing out and horses neighing loudly. I caught one horse that was loose and was being chased by three people. I jumped up and landed on the roof, careful of my footing. I watched for anyone that might try to use the distraction to kill the kids.

No one.

Five minutes passed.

Five more minutes passed.

I was starting down when I spotted them, a group seven strong keeping to the dark as they moved towards our barracks.

_Because of course they try this shit._

There were seven of them, three were archers while the rest had swords. None were dressed in heavy mail, just light clothes so they crept quietly through the night. I took a running start and leapt, sailing through the air before I landed _hard._ For emphasis.

Earth broke and jumped into the air. The effect wasn’t the same as when Alex had helped, stirring up dust and my hair, but it was enough.

I heard gulps and the shuffle of footstep. I heard swords come free, caught the glint and I stopped myself from grabbing for it. The man didn’t swing, only kept his sword levelled straight at me. It shook like a leaf.

“You won’t win,” I said. “Tell Lord Tully he tried and failed. Tell him that we’re leaving.”

Brynden had done something like this and I’d been waiting for it. But in the low light, with my perception increased, I saw a flicker of confusion.

_Not Tully’s people or maybe they’re acting?_

“Who are you?” I asked before they could lie to me.

“Men sent by Lord Tywin of Lannister, my lady,” the front most man said. His tone was short and tight. “He heard that you saved his grandchildren from King Robert and he sent us here to retrieve them.”

“You’re the ones who burnt down the villages,” I said. “As a distraction.”

The man was quiet for a moment, trying to read me before he nodded. “Yes, my lady. It was the only way we could make sure we weren’t caught.”

“Did you kill anyone?” I asked.

A moment’s hesitation, a small flicker I noticed because of my perception. My hand closed in a fist. The man’s arm shook more and the men behind him stepped back, their eyes wide.

“Throw your weapons down. I’ll talk to Lord Tully and we’ll keep you as prisoners, more than you deserve. If you don’t—”

“The princes and princess, my lady,” said the man. “Give them to us first and I swear it I will go to Oldstones, lay myself before your law.”

“Why the fuck would I trust the word of a murderer?” I said. “Fucking _put_ your weapons down.”

The man clenched his jaw. I stepped forward, dancing out of the way of the sword. Invulnerability moving to my foot as I kicked. I caught him in the chest, felt a crack and watched as he spun, hitting two others and bowling them over. Four left, three with swords another with pulling free a bow and notching an arrow.

The archer drew and loosed. I was too close and couldn’t move out of the way, instead I moved invulnerability to my face. The first, second and third arrow hit without effect—something big, shifting, insinuating and then splintering, cracking and letting those fragments rain down through realities to their targets—then fourth, longer than his arm, made of a searing white light that forced me to look aside, flew and hit me in the face.

My invulnerability held but I was knocked off my feet, sent hurtling back, twisting through the air. My perception was at its limits and it was the only reason that I had enough mind to go with the motion, angle myself to land on my feet and then move the invulnerability to my legs, quickly shifting it to my knees so they absorbed the impact.

_Of-fucking-course._

The archer, eyes still wide, didn’t notch and arrow. He pulled back the string of his bow and an arrow made of light appeared. He let it go just as fast and I dodged to the side, quickly lunging in his direction. Behind me I heard a detonation then the sound of tumbling rock.

 _No,_ I thought and that was the distraction that gave him time. The archer drew and loosed. I was hit again, sent spinning through the air and this time when I landed it was ungainly. I moved invulnerability to my legs—I tipped back—and then my head—my back hit the ground, cloth rubbing against unprotected skin. Pain flashed but it was easy to ignore.

I tumbled, pushed invulnerability to my hands and pushed myself off the ground, spun twice in a back flip and landed feet first.

The men were running but I didn’t care about them. I ran back to the barracks, _praying_ that our people weren’t too badly hurt.

The building had been structurally unsound and the hit from the archer had exacerbated the damage, over half of the front had fallen, chunks of rocks in a messy pile.

_Ava was in her armour, she should have been protected. Barden has his powers he should be protected._

But there were the kids and everyone else.

Why hadn’t I told them to go out in the open?

I jumped for height, watched the rubble for any shifting or any people. I saw them, a space that was still open, people who hadn’t been caught by the debris. They were scrambling back while others were working to pull free chunks of rock off of people.

I jumped again, but this time it was to get to the other side. I landed on a patch of rooftop, felt as it started to give way and jumped off. There were people screaming for help, parts of the rubble that were shifting and it all culminated in a twisting of my stomach.

_Don’t think. Act._

I started pulling free chunks of rubble and threw it back. People helped and I was grateful.

“Go call for help,” I said to a kid that wasn’t do anything. He nodded and took off.

We moved through the rubble and found a person. A man in his late thirties, his chest crushed, his eyes opened wide. A sob left me. I kept searching, pulling chunks free. We found a girl, eleven or twelve, bruised but breathing. We pulled her out.

People arrived and they started to help.

It was easier with more people but sometimes we did more damage. The rubble would shift, undoing the work we’d put in to move away rock.

On the other end I heard rubble falling and then a scream. Barden’s scream it sounded like.

“No. No. No.” I searched for a perch and jumped up, saw the shifting rubble and moved in the direction, starting a frenzied kicking that sent a pile of rubble flying away. I did more of this, no longer careful but desperate until the last of the rubble disappeared to reveal Barden beneath, covered in dust and three other forms at either of his sides.

They were hurt, I could see streaks of blood over the dust. Barden had fought men in armour, carrying swords and shooting arrows but he was shaking; Joffrey had wide eyes; and the dark-haired boy had his hands in fists and his jaw clenched.

“Out,” I said. “There were still others. Ava and Myrcella and Tommen.”

“They were right next to me,” said Barden, voice reedy but finding strength. “They should be here,” he said. His arms disappeared. He angled his body and I caught as gouges appeared on debris; rocks started to fly up into the air, pulled or batted away. He was shaky on his legs but he kept working, an intense focus to him.

Barden struggled with a large piece of rubble and I helped moved it away.

“Mother’s mercy, no,” said Joffrey, crawling forward to the form of his little brother, his face deformed from the weight of the rubble. “Tommen,” he said shaking the boy. “Tommen wake up. Wake up, Tommen.”

“M’lord,” said dark haired boy. He coughed. He limped as he walked to Joffrey. “I mean, Your Grace, you have to move. Princess Myrcella is still in there.”

“Help me move him,” said Joffrey, tears in his eyes. “Now!”

He and the boy started to pull while we kept shifting rubble. We dug and dug, pulling out people who were alive and hurt or dead, until finally the rubble opened up to Ava shielding Myrcella like a tent, her arms straining to keep herself up under the rubble.

“Pull her out!” Ava.

“No,” I said, my heart at my throat. “Pull the rubble off. Quickly.”

“Kathy, save her!”

But I couldn’t. If we pulled Myrcella free Ava wouldn’t have something to fight for. She needed that strength or she’d give up. She’d let herself fall and that could mean a rock hitting her hard enough to cause more damage. Her mouth was already red with blood and her eyes were unfocused. She’d already had a good knock and I didn’t trust her handling another.

Barden didn’t question me. He worked faster, batting rubble away more than pulling it, and more and more weight was free from Ava. I rushed in and pulled Myrcella out. She was unconscious but breathing.

Just as I’d thought Ava let herself relax, which shifted the rubble some more, making it threaten to hit her. But Barden had done good work. He’d already moved most of the rock away.

Ava and Barden were alive. Myrcella was hurt and Joffrey was alive. But there were still more people buried under the rubble.

£

“What’s the count?” I asked. Three hours past and we’d found everyone. We’d been moved into a set of rooms in the castle where maesters and healers looked us over.

“Four dead,” said Gerrard. “Seven hurt, three in a condition the maester considers critical. Myrcella Lannister amongst them. Some with broken ribs and others with broken arms or sprained legs.”

“Myrcella’s still unconscious?”

Gerrard nodded, letting out a long, shaky breath. “The maester says things are worse the more time she’s asleep. We hope she will be awake tomorrow at latest so we know the degree of damage.”

“Brain damage is always finicky,” I muttered. It was why I put so much attention to always being aware of how my head was moving, always prepared to move invulnerability in that direction. “The men?”

“Escaped.” Gerrard frowned. “My lady, your deception has reached even Riverrun and Lord Edmure believes that it was you who gifted these men their destructive power.”

“Should we be worried about an attack?” I asked.

“Guest right is sacred,” said Gerrard. “It will not be broken. Not without incurring dishonour. But you might find that Lord Edmure is bolder in what he wants.”

“Fuck all of this,” I muttered. “I need time. To check on Ava, on Barden, make sure they’re still okay. I need to check that our people are still okay.”

“I think Lords Edmure and Blackwood shall understand, my lady,” he said.

“Thanks, Gerrard.”

I had a guard at either of my sides as I walked the short hall to where the worst hurt were staying, they stayed to guard the door when I got in. The place was full, people still sobbing, others still covered in dust, most resting. Barden was fast asleep, while Ava and Joffrey sat near Myrcella’s bed near the back. There were arms in slings and people nursing broken legs. The worst was a guy with broken ribs.

People first. I asked each if they were okay, if there was anything they wanted or if they wanted to go back to King’s Landing. I didn’t have money, but I was sure I could work out a deal with Blackwood that would give them carriages back.

None took the offer, which a part of me was thankful for because it meant even with my mistake, they still trusted me.

I slowly moved through to the back, to Ava and Joffrey.

“Who were they?” Joffrey asked. “Men sent by, Fa—by Robert?”

“Sent by your grandfather to steal you away,” I said.

“Then why did they attack?” His expression twisted. “Because you stopped them,” he said, tone hot. “Because you stood against them.”

 _My fault for a different reason,_ I thought. The first thing I’d been taught was to limit damage to infrastructure, and as part of that I’d had to be very aware of my surroundings and how I moved the fight. I hadn’t been thinking when I’d dodged the attack, hadn’t thought about tanking it first and then directing it away from the building full of people.

I’d just gone on the attack because it was what felt right to me. When I thought about it, it even made sense. Blasters loved their distance and by closing it down there was a better chance of me defeating him.

But fights weren’t that simple. It wasn’t just about knowing the classifications and the abstracts of how to counter them. There were a host of other things to pay attention to and I hadn’t done that.

“You’re the reason my brother’s dead,” Joffrey said. “That Myrcella…”

Ava took Joffrey’s arm and the boy pulled out of the contact. He stood, made to walk out of the room and then realised that he was a prisoner and started to pace.

“It’s _not,”_ said Ava. She winced. “Not your fault.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “It sort of is.”

£

Everett and Taylor arrived in the late afternoon the next day. Myrcella still hadn’t woken up and that was a constant worry; Ava slept a lot but when she was awake was time she was with Myrcella; Barden had a slight limp but he followed me around, his hand in mine; and Joffrey only paced, every word he spoke curt.

With Everett and Taylor were Leana, who looked better since the last time I’d seen her, more colour to her skin and standing straighter; she had two dogs at her side, one wagging its tail excitedly while the other stuck close to Leana. There was also a guy I didn’t know who stood like someone with authority, standing closer to Leana than Everett and Taylor.

“Olivia,” said Joffrey. “I need to talk to you.”

There was an audience. Taylor had made a scene, gathering bugs before they’d arrived, and that had given the castle time to prepare people. Lord Edmure stood at the front, with his lords around him. We were slightly to the back, Joffrey with us, and yet _he’d_ been the one to speak.

This was wrong, there were ways to play this and this wasn’t it. There were supposed to be greetings, as lord of this castle Edmure was supposed to decide how they moved, but Joffrey had messed it all up.

I could see that my read was right, too, because it earned Joffrey a lot of cold scowls.

Not that Joffrey cared.

Not that Olive cared.

“Yeah. Sure. Why not,” she said. “You need me?” she said to Everett.

“Go ahead,” Everett muttered.

Olive moved the cow she was on past crowds, ignoring everyone to get close to Joffrey. The prince put up a hand and Olive pulled. The two of them trotted off.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet the Lord and Lady of Oldstones,” said Edmure, projecting his voice. “We’d long thought you wouldn’t grace us with your presence.” He tried and failed to hold off the resentment.

“It’s been a trying time,” said Everett. “With a lot to deal with. We needed to secure ourselves before we were able to move.”

“Please. My lord. My lady, join us as we enjoy our lunch, so that we may talk of the future,” he said.

“Thanks…for the invitation,” said Everett.

“I wonder if we might first speak with our friends,” Weaver said, her voice projected with bugs. A scream and a gasp erupted, people shifted, standing straighter. They looked around. Some looked down and more than one person ran.

There were bugs over the ground.

“A—” Edmure stopped and cleared his throat. “Yes, my lady.  That is quite acceptable. A brief moment to allow you to speak with yours, time to prepare yourselves for our meeting.”

“I thank you for your generosity,” Weaver said.

“We have silk and honey,” Everett added. “Gifts. You’re free to take them, but please don’t touch the armour.”

Edmure offered his thanks and he let the others move. I lead the way to our quarters, then to the following room because the other was still crowded.

“I heard you were attacked,” Taylor said.

“Ava?” Everett said.

“Next room,” I said. “Her and Barden. We decided it was better to always have an eye on the kids.” I looked at Taylor. “It was an accident. Some men came here last night to steal the Baratheon kids. I stopped them because they’re murderers and one of them triggered. He shot at me and I dodged and he hit the barracks we lived in before this. The building caved in.”

“Partly explains why Joffrey is begging Olivia for powers,” said Taylor. “Olivia knows I’m listening in.”

_I forgot I even care about that._

“We lied in King’s Landing and said we give out powers,” I explained. “Someone triggered there. He works for the king.”

“Olivia didn’t mention that,” said Everett. “Is everyone okay? Everyone still alive?”

“Ava’s sleeping a lot more and Barden’s limping. We had a few deaths from the people that came with us. One…one is Tommen, the youngest of the Baratheon kids. The other is in a coma.”

“Fuck, _Kath,”_ said Everett. “I’m…” He stopped and moved forward, giving me a hug. I was tense for a moment before I eased into it. “Whatever happened it’s not your fault. I know you and I _know_ that you did all you could.”

I pulled out of the hug. “I made fuckin’ stupid mistakes,” I said and I clenched my hand. “I wasn’t thinking about the most important things. I wanted a fight.”

_And it wasn’t for the first time. With Olly, I fought more than I had to. I fought these guys instead of focusing on the terrain, on the damage of the attack._

“Everyone makes mistakes,” said Taylor. “It’s when you don’t learn from them that it becomes a problem.”

Everett gave me a sympathetic smile and nodded.

“I don’t think I’m meant for this,” I said. “Being the leader. I think…I just wanted it.”

_Maybe I was just jealous of you and your knack for it instead of thinking about if I’m actually good at it._

“Olive told us about King’s Landing, what happened there and you did pretty good,” said Everett. “You handled things well. You did everything well, even with giving them a ward instead of forcing a fight. You were just dealt a bad hand. There’s nothing wrong with losing or making a mistake when things like that happen.”

“We’re going to protect those kids,” said Taylor, not as much emotion in her voice as Everett’s but it rounded things out.

One was propping me up while the other gave me a sense of security. And fuck, it was actually working. I still felt horrible about Tommen, still worried about Myrcella and was scared of Joffrey’s resentment when Olive told him he wouldn’t be able to get powers. But it felt like there was light at the end of the tunnel.

“Did you have an approach?” asked Taylor. “A plan?”

I swallowed and nodded. _Back to business._

“I wanted to send those kids to Tywin Lannister but this are more complicated,” I said. “Their grandfather, but that doesn’t feel like it’s going to work out. If we send Joffrey to Tywin, the king will think we’re siding with him. I haven’t really had time to think about it more than that.”

“Olive already told us that,” said Everett, “and we were thinking about it. Joffrey could stay with us until the trial’s set.”

“Except he doesn’t want to come with us. He wants to go to his grandfather. He blames me for Tommen’s death.”

“He doesn’t have a choice,” said Taylor. “They all don’t. We can’t give them to their grandfather even if it’s the right thing to do because there are other things connected to it.”

“Sounds a lot like kidnapping,” I said.

“I can try to talk to him. Convince him to see reason. He’s a prince. He’s supposed to work for the good of the kingdom, right?”

I snorted.

“What?” said Everett.

“He’s a _kid_ that’s been pampered for all his life,” she said. “One who was told that he’d rule this place. I mean, a lot of shit happened to him, but he was still dickish on this trip. He snapped at people, acted better than them and expected them to do all the work while he did nothing. He’s angry, which I get, but he’s also impulsive and stubborn.”

“Let’s talk to him first,” said Everett. “Feel things out.”

“We don’t have a lot of time,” said Taylor. “Lord Tully’s angry. He’s talking to his father right now and it’s all about disrespect. Blackwood’s helping our case, telling him that we don’t understand customs no matter how we act.”

“Thank god for Blackwood right now,” Everett muttered.

“Blackwood’s prepared to be on our side if we try and take over,” I said. I sighed. “That’s where things are, right now. People are feeling threatened.”

“We don’t _want_ to take over,” said Everett.

“That doesn’t stop them from seeing what they want,” said Taylor. “Do you remember Bracken and his reaction when you saved those bandits? When Ava gave away that cross?”

I nodded, getting at what she was saying, which made my stomach sink all the more.

_It all goes back to Targaryens and dragons._

A chuckle left me, unbidden. Everett and Taylor looked at me with worry.

“Dragons are real,” I said. “I didn’t see them, but Olive saw their bones. So…” I shrugged. I took a deep breath, held it in and let it out. “Fuck all of this. All of this pressure. I miss not mattering. Being a face in the crowd. When there were people who dealt with shit like this.”

“We’re here,” said Everett. “To help lighten the load.”

“Take it all,” I said. “I’m just…tired. I’ve been on edge for too long.”

Taylor gave a short nod. “Olivia and Joffrey are on their way,” she said. “We’ll try out the soft approach first, but if things don’t work, we’re not giving him a choice. We’re trying to make sure they live, but we’ve got to look at things broadly. If the king is threatened, he’ll go on the attack and that’ll be a lot of people dead.”

“Okay,” said Everett. “Give me a breakdown of Joffrey while he walks up. Maybe I can figure out the best way to talk to him.”

“Talk to Ava,” I said. “She’s better with them.”

Barden, helping Ava, walked into our room shortly after. Leana came with them, her dogs followed after her. The one with the red fur barked excitedly, its tail wagging as it ran to Taylor. She absently bent low and picked it up. It squirmed in her arms, trying to lick her face.

“Everett,” said Ava, her voice a whisper. She smiled. “It’s good to see you guys.”

“You’re whispering,” said Everett, worried.

“Whiplash, I think,” she said. Barden walked her over to a bed where Ava was grateful to sit. “Still dealing with dizziness, but I’m better.”

“You sound like your throat is sore,” said Taylor.

Ava nodded. “The maester said I shouldn’t use it until it heals. Strain is bad.”

Everett sighed. “I’m a little worried about having you speak, then,” he said. “We want to convince Joffrey to come with us to Oldstones until this whole trial business is dealt with.”

Ava shook her head and then closed her eyes. “He’s not going to want that. He’s…scared. Thinks the only safe place is with his grandfather.”

“No choice but to force things,” said Taylor. “He and Olivia are almost here.”

“I don’t like that,” said Everett. “I don’t like just forcing the kid to do something he doesn’t want.”

“Do we have a choice?” Taylor asked. “Kidnapping is bad, yes, but so are the many lives we’ll lose to any war that forms.”

Everett sighed and he nodded. “We’ve still got to talk about Lord Tully letting him stay with us in the first place, and I feel like that’s going to be difficult.”

“Good cop, bad cop,” said Taylor.

“That could be disastrous,” said Everett. “Especially when there’s still the mine to think about.”

“What mine?” I asked.

“I found a coal deposit and I wanted the land,” said Everett. “We were going to ask for it, but it feels like that’s no longer in the cards. Except if we give him a stake in it. Fifty-fifty?” he asked Taylor.

“It’s not really about the money, it’s about the coal,” she said. “Though it feels like we’ll be giving him a lot when he just owns the land.”

Everett shook his head. “We’re getting distracted. For this to work, we have to give it reason to work and the only reason that can exist is neutrality.”

“I feel like we crossed that bridge,” I said. “How can we be neutral when we’re already in the way? When we took a side?”

“That’s the hard part,” Everett said. “True neutral isn’t doing anything. But…what we want is just not having to pick a side—”

“While also acting,” said Taylor. “The villages and all the people that were hurt. If the Lannisters did that, then that can’t be just ignored.”

“Bracken…” said Ava. “He said something…when I gave Arina that cross. That…what we do and what we say is different. When I look…I see it.”

“We’re a part of things whether we like it or not,” said Taylor. “I don’t think we can just wash our hands of this. Not without leaving those kids to the wolves.”

“You’re going to leave us here?” said Joffrey. Taylor wasn’t surprised but the rest of us were. “To them?”

 _Why did you do that?_  I thought and my perception picked up, giving me time to think. It didn’t help, because my thoughts revolved around a dead Tommen, of a Myrcella who was asleep and who knew when she’d wake up, of all the people who’d died from my mistake.

I cut it down, letting the moment play out.

“No,” said Everett. “We’re not going to do that, just discussing options.”

“The only option is taking me to Grandfather,” he said. “Taking me and Myrcella there before we die too.”

It felt like a punch to the gut.

 _There he goes, ordering people around,_ a part of me thought. _But it’s not going to work. Ava and Everett are gentle, but they’ll try and think through how they’ll couch what they’ll say. Taylor isn’t like that._

“That’s not going to happen,” said Taylor.

Joffrey looked at me, then to Ava. “You said you’d—”

“Things are complicated,” said Taylor. “We can’t send you there because that gets _us_ in trouble.”

“Taylor,” said Everett. “Ease up.”

Taylor went silent.

_Good cop. Bad cop. Complementing each other._

They could lean on each other and I was envious of that. I’d had that a little with Alex, but it hadn’t been to this level. And maybe that was why I was having trouble. Barden helped to distract but it wasn’t the same as this.

“You have to understand that we can’t be seen to pick a side,” said Everett. “It just complicates things more than you know. It’s better for us and for you, if we let things play out and then deal with them after.”

“I don’t understand,” said Joffrey.

“There’s going to be a trial,” said Everett. “From the letters that were sent up it’ll be in three months. Less now since they were sent a while ago. For your mother and father—” Joffrey’s expression twisted “—and there the king will prove that you aren’t his kids. You won’t have a claim to the throne and he won’t have any reason to kill you or your sister.” 

Joffrey stayed silent, his expression unreadable.

“It’s better if you stay with us until everything’s over. We’ll be able to protect you.”

“Like you protected Tommen?” he said, tone hot. “Forgive me if I don’t trust that. Forgive me if I don’t trust you. I’ll be taken to grandfather. You promised. Now keep your word. Or is that worth nothing?”

“I didn’t give you my word,” I said, because he was speaking to me. “I told you what we’d do when I thought that was the smartest thing to do.” I shook my head. “Now it’s not.”

He snorted. “I’m to be your hostage, then?” he said. “Better I should have stayed in King’s Landing. Mother and Uncle Jaimie are still alive. The Black Cells would be more comfortable in that at least I’d be amongst family.”

“That’s simpler,” said Taylor. “I’ll tell Lord Edmure he should escort you to King’s Landing.” She looked at Everett. “That makes things easy for us because it means—”

“You can’t be serious,” said Joffrey. “You would do that?”

“I would,” said Taylor.

 _She would,_ I thought and as things were, I didn’t know if it would be the right thing to stop her.

“And you’d let her?” he said, looking from each of us. I was lost in my mind, Ava looked down, Barden and Leana looked lost and Everett looked at the kid with pity. He looked to Olive.

“They’re the bosses,” she said with a shrug. “They say jump and I say fuck yeah.”

“This really is the better way,” said Everett. “It’s only three months, after that you’ll be free to be with your grandfather. Everything will work out.”

“And hey,” said Olive. “More time you spend around us, the better the chance you get powers.”

Joffrey’s eyes shone. “Fine,” he said.

_And now to the hard part._

£

“I have been told by Lord Blackwood,” said the senior Lord Tully.

He was an old man, grey skinned and sickly. He put on a face, acted as if his strengths were still up, but I could see he was struggling. His words were slow and measured, and sometimes he would take breaths that were too long. But he was here, dealing with us.

To his left was Edmure, his expression pouty as he glared down at us, and to his right was Blackwood, whose expression was impassive. A young maester stood behind the senior Tully, his expression grave. We sat at a table with food between us, not that we were eating. Edmure, Blackwood and Everett had goblets of wine in front of them, which…was a thing.

When had Everett started drinking?

_Not important._

I sat to his right and Taylor to his left. I didn’t feel comfortable being here, especially after I’d messed things up, but Everett had asked me to attend and I’d agreed.

Joffrey sat beside me, his back straight and his expression haughty. The kid wasn’t that tall, but he had a way of looking down on people, he had a way of showing affront with just the shaping of his eye. Something I often saw from Edmure, though with him it was laced with resentment.

 _They’re nobility,_ I thought. It’s their thing to think they’re better than everyone else.

“That your people have a brash nature to them,” Lord Tully said. “That you do away with social niceties and decorum.”

“It’s not that we ignore them,” said Everett. “It’s just…they’re different from the ones we have. We have positions of power but they’re not for lords, we don’t have knights and all that.”

Lord Tully raised a shaky hand. “My words are neither judgement nor chastisement,” he said. “I…am an old man, as you no doubt see, and I do not have the time many do to speak around topics. Which is why, if you’ll allow it, I’ll ask that we be as brash as is natural to you.” He took a breath. “And if I am being blunt, it is not incorrect to say you have committed treason by secreting away the Lannister bastards.”

Joffrey sat forward. “How dare you,” he said only to be interrupted.

“Quiet, boy,” said Lord Tully. Even with how strained his voice was there was authority in his words. Joffrey stopped. “That your mother and father are Lannisters does not change that you were born outside of marriage.”

“My father is Robert Baratheon,” said Joffrey. “All that you’ve heard is lies.”

“You would call the king a liar?” said Edmure. “For the words were sent by him. It is his seal on them. We can show you if you doubt our words.”

“Joffrey status isn’t what we’re here to discuss,” Taylor interrupted.

“And he isn’t here to take abuse,” said Everett. “We’re here to mend things and…frankly this isn’t a good way to start.”

“Is it not?” said Lord Tully. “This child believes he is royalty and no doubt will defend that belief. If he were to go to his grandfather, no doubt Tywin would go along with the ruse if to protect the honour of his house. Something my son tried and failed to communicate to you.”

I shook my head. “Edmure made his case pretty well,” I said. “It’s just…it doesn’t change anything. Joffrey didn’t do anything wrong and he doesn’t deserve to go back to a man who was planning to kill him. Not for being _born.”_

“He has a claim that could see in-fighting between kingdoms,” said Lord Blackwood. “This is for the greatest good. Ensuring peace through the realm.”

“A lot of bad shit’s been doing for the ‘greater good’,” I muttered.

Everett gave me a look but he nodded. “There are a lot of ways to doing good, and evil should be the last option. We don’t know for sure what Joffrey’s grandfather’s going to do. He might decide to talk things out—”

Lord Tully snorted and this turned into an ugly cough that stopped things as the maester rushed forward.

“I’m _fine,”_ he said and he stopped to cough some more. “I didn’t believe this tale of yours. That you came from another world, your magic helped, but what you just said speaks volume. It proves you have no idea the man Tywin Lannister is. How ruthless he can be.”

“We don’t,” said Taylor, her voice even.

“We don’t know a _lot_ if we’re telling the truth,” Everett stepped in. “But even without that context, some actions are just wrong and this is one of them.”

“Some might consider breaking the law wrong,” said Edmure.

“Laws serve people,” said Taylor. “Not the other way around. If there’s a law that enables _this,_ the killing of a child, then it’s not serving people, it’s serving the people in charge.”

I noticed bugs moving in the background. Nothing overt, but it was coordinated, moving to settle on people, going to key points and staying there. I even saw a fly carrying a wispy string of web. When I focused on it, there were more.

 _Are you preparing for a fight?_ I thought, but I hadn’t heard or seen anything to make me think that. Barden, Olive and Ava were with Myrcella and the rest of our people. If there was trouble, then we would have heard it.

“And so you see fit to interject,” said Lord Tully. “Forgive me if I’m mistaken, but you told Lord Bracken that you would not involve yourselves in our affairs. It is why I gave you land so you can live and build your contraptions to go back home. It is why I spoke nothing of taxes for the silk you’ve been trading. And yet…we’re here, where you’ve brazenly stood again King Robert and are set on continuing.”

Silence.

It seemed especially long since my perception was increased.

“We’re just trying to do the best out of a shitty situation,” I said, frustrated. _“Everything_ we’ve been doing is making the best of a shitty situation. We don’t want to get involved. Really we don’t—”

“But you _are,”_ said Lord Tully. “And you are refusing to disentangle yourselves.”

“Where disentanglement means letting a _child_ be killed _,_ yeah,” I said. I looked at Everett and Taylor. Taylor was hard to read but I could see that Everett felt the same way I did. No matter how we talked around it, the end of all of this was that Joffrey was going to be killed. That was _crazy_ and I didn’t think any words would convince me that it wasn’t.

“The thing is,” said Everett. “The kids don’t have to die. They might not even have a leg to stand on at the end of this trial. So why don’t we wait for that? Why don’t we wait for things to play out? We can keep Joffrey and Myrcella at Oldstones, away from the king and away from Tywin. After the trial everyone will know that he’s…” He glanced at Joffrey, “not the king’s son and he won’t have a claim. That’s middle ground. The kids don’t die and Tywin can’t use Joffrey to cause war.”

“Still that refusal,” said Lord Tully. He shook his head.

“Because we believe in doing _right,”_ said Everett. “Because we want people to be alive and happy. We want to protect Joffrey and Myrcella because they’re kids caught in the middle of a whole lot of complicated, but we don’t want that to be at the expense of anyone else. Everyone’s talking about war, between Tywin and the king, and that’s going to be bad. We want to limit that as much as we can.”

“It’s why we came here even though it’s caused this situation,” I put in. “We thought Tyrion Lannister was here and we wanted to tell you he was innocent before something bad happened.”

But Tyrion hadn’t been here. Eddard’s wife had gone to her sister in the Vale instead of coming here. We’d come all of this way for nothing, though a part of me was grateful because things would have been much worse if we’d gone straight to Joffrey’s grandfather.

Everett nodded. “We’re heroes,” he said. “Where we’re from its our job to make sure that bad people get justice.” He glanced at Taylor. “But being a hero isn’t just about following the law, some of them are unjust and they let a lot of bad things happen. It’s about keeping perspective, helping both the individual and society as a whole.”

“A noble sentiment,” said Lord Tully. “However, things are set. I cannot agree to this,” he said. “For I do not trust you and yours. I do not trust that this is not some attention to get power.”

“Getting power would be easy for,” said Weaver, bugs joining her voice. I saw each of them tense. Edmure looked down and his eyes went wide. I looked too and there was a swarm of bugs under the table.

“This isn’t that,” Taylor finished.

“The Wall might suffice,” said Blackwood, his voice stiff. “High up in the North. He would lose all claim and abandoning them would yield only death.”

“I don’t want to go to the Wall,” said Joffrey, his voice shaky. He hadn’t noticed the bugs, I was sure, but it was always unsettling to hear bugs speaking. They hiss and crackled, some word stretched out in a way humans weren’t able to do. It was a cacophony that shouldn’t have come together into something intelligible and yet it did. 

“What you want is to be king,” said Blackwood. “You’ve said as much. The gods of Oldstones are arguing for your survival. They believe that you would accept your status as bastard, that you wouldn’t stand after King Robert when the truth has been revealed and you’ve lost your titles. Are we to take it that this is untrue?”

Joffrey stayed quiet.

_Fuck. Fuck._

I still felt guilty about Tommen, and even if the kid was getting the terrible end of the deal, I wanted _some_ sliver of happiness for him. The Wall was a prison and he didn’t deserve that.

“I thought the Wall was for criminals,” I said.

“Yes, there are criminals,” said Blackwood. “But the Night’s Watch are protectors of the realm as well. They ensure our safety against the wildlings. They’re a noble order and many a lord has sent their children there.”

“Have any of _you_ sent children there?” Taylor asked.

There was no answer, which was answer enough.

“He didn’t commit a crime,” I said.

“It’s a compromise,” said Blackwood. “This isn’t something the king wants and neither do you or Joffrey, but it isn’t his death.”

“Isn’t there anything else?” Everett asked.

“It’s the only way we can ensure he will not be a problem in the future,” said Lord Tully. He nodded. “I would find this acceptable. We will give you time to consider,” he said. “Perhaps another meeting on the morrow?”

“Thank you,” said Taylor.

£   

“You won’t agree, will you?” said Joffrey. Thankfully he’d wanted until we were in our rooms in the castle, it was still guarded, but the guards kept their distance now. There were bugs in the halls and if they were too close, Taylor annoyed them until they couldn’t take it anymore. “I…I…I could be killed? The Starks are Fa—Robert’s men. They would kill me before I even reached the Wall.”

I didn’t buy that with the man I knew, but I still didn’t know how he’d reacted to the whole thing. He’d been knocked out when Robert had wanted to kill the kids, which meant that _maybe_ he’d been trying to hold Robert back. But that was just a guess.

The others were gathered, their expression forlorn. Taylor had been relaying our conversation with the others. Barden moved to my side, sliding his hand in mine. I smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

Joffrey’s expression got more worried.

“And what about Myrcella?” he asked. He looked at Ava. “All that talking and she was barely mentioned. What do you think will happened to her? She can’t go to the Wall? Would she even want to?”

Ava looked down.

“She…wouldn’t,” said Ava. She took a deep breath. “Her brother just died and…the maester said they might have to cut open her skull if she doesn’t wake up. There’s swelling in her brain and this could help, but it’s incredibly dangerous.”

My stomach twisted and I closed my hand tightly around Barden’s.

_My fault._

“Maybe…maybe you could fight for me, for _us,_ ” said Joffrey. “There is to be a trial, is there not? Well…perhaps I can request a trial by combat and ask that one of you be my champion. That would absolve me, Myrcella and I, of our ‘crimes’ and—”

“You’d go to your grandfather and you could still fight for your claim,” said Taylor. _“Are_ you going to fight for that claim? If your grandfather offered it to you?”

“I wouldn’t,” Joffrey said.

 _Too quick,_ I thought. _You’re telling us what we want to hear._

“That was too quick,” said Taylor. “You’re just telling us what we want to hear.”

“Wouldn’t you?” Joffrey shouted.

“In your position? Yeah,” said Everett. “But you get why we can’t just trust your word if that’s the case, right? I think…there’s no chance that people will be happy with you and your sister going to your grandfather. It’s too much of a threat to them.”

“So I should be sent to the Wall for—for Mother’s indiscretions?” he said. “None of which is my fault. None of which is my sister’s fault.”

“Stop trying to manipulate,” said Taylor. It was working on the rest of us but it wasn’t working on her. Ava’s head was still down, my hand was clenched around Barden to the point it must have started to hurt him—I relaxed—and Everett couldn’t keep eye contact with Joffrey. “You’re not arguing anymore you’re just hitting people where it hurts.”

“My choices are either to go to the Wall or _die!”_ he said. “Die, like…like Tommen. Like Myrcella might. What do you want me to do? Shut my mouth and accept all of this? If you were me what would you do?”

Taylor didn’t say anything.

Everett didn’t say anything.

I didn’t say anything.

Olive did. “We have the fuckin’ power,” she said. Not to him, to us. “We have the _fuckin’_ power. Again, we have the fuckin’ power. Why are we listening to these people? To these fucked up people with these fucked up beliefs?”

“Olive, we’re not better than anyone just because—”

Olive cut him off with a snort. “Aren’t we?” she said. “Aren’t we better than the person who’s planning to kill his _kids?_ Sure they weren’t made by his jizz, but what the fuck does that matter? He raised them from _babies_ and now he can just order them to be killed? But that’s not the worst part. No, the worst part is this and every other fucker is culpable. They want _us_ to be culpable too. We should tell them to just screw themselves and get out of here.”

“And what about the consequences?” asked Everett. He let out a sigh. _“Fuck!_ You think I don’t know that this place is fucked up. Does Kirk think we don’t care? No. It’s because actions have consequences. Trying to change this place will cause a _lot_ of damage. These people won’t just accept our way of life when they’ve lived with theirs for who knows how long.”

“So we play by their rules?” said Olive. “We let shit happen?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” said Everett.

“Then what the fuck are you saying?” said Olive.

“I’m saying it’s complicated,” said Everett. “All of this shit is.”

“Then let’s make it fuckin’ simple. We’re taking Joffrey and that’s that. He’s not going to the Wall where he could die. He’s not going to his grandfather because there’s all of that shit there. He’ll stay with us for all his life and that’s that. There. It’s a solution and we can fuckin stop walking on eggshells.”

There was another bout of silence. Joffrey looked almost hopeful.

“What do you think?” Everett asked. “You were a villain. Maybe that’s what you’ve always wanted to do.”

Attention turned to Taylor.

“I don’t think it’s as simple as Olivia’s making it out to be,” she said. “I think…there’s a lot there that will need to be worked around.”

“Like the king and the fact that he’s already afraid of us,” I cut in. “If we do anything like Olive’s saying then he might attack as a show of power.”

Olive groaned. “Back to square one, I guess,” she muttered. “I’m tired of this shit. I’ve been running around, from Fairmarket to King’s Landing to here to Raventree to fuckin back here. And you know what, you guys will him want to get to the Wall safely and I’ll be the one freezing my tits off so I’m gonna fuckin’ sleep while I have the time.”

She tromped off.

“Olive,” said Everett, a sigh in his voice.

“Let her go,” said Taylor. “I’ll talk to her when she’s settled.”

“She and Alex were really close,” I said. “Now Tommen’s gone. I think she liked that kid.”

“Tommen was a sweet kid,” said Barden.

Ava nodded.

“Kirk’s also gone,” said Everett.

“What?” said Ava, her voice raspy.

“He’s gone to Braavos,” he continued. “He left almost a month ago. He’s planning to do something about the slavery problem.”

 _Another thing that’s my fault,_ I thought. Kirk had spoken to me about his worries and I’d pushed them aside. He’d spoken about them again and we’d pushed them aside. It made sense that he’d decided to finally live, to fight for something he felt for instead of…whatever this was.

I could sympathise with Olive’s frustration. It didn’t feel like we were really doing anything, time passed with us moving from one place to another, we’d do a little work and then…nothing. Shit came up and we dealt with that shit and it all didn’t help towards getting home.

Because it was very unlikely we _could_ go home.

Especially when Everett had seen fit to stop tinkering.

“Theo?” said Ava.

“Back at Oldstones,” said Everett.

Ava let out a breath of relief.

 _Kirk’s moving on with his life,_ I thought. _But that doesn’t help us._

“We have to get involved,” I said. I swallowed, because that was just more pressure, that was more mistakes waiting to happen. But…it was action instead of reaction. “Fully. We have to act instead of reacting. Commit.”

I looked at Taylor.

“It’s what you kept saying when you first joined us,” I said. “That villains have the upper hand because we react to them. That we should strike first.”

“Strike?” said Everett. “Your language scares me. Especially after Olive.”

I sighed. “I don’t know,” I said. “Just…that maybe Olive’s right that we have to leverage the power that we have. More controlled than she wants, but yeah.”

I shrugged. I wasn’t sure about the idea, still wasn’t sure what I wanted, but I knew what I didn’t want and that needed action. It needed smart action where I wasn’t acting on impulse, where I wasn’t trying to run away while also wanting to be a leader.

I’d done that with Kirk. I hadn’t understood how deep things had run and instead I’d said enough to push him away from his course in the short term. In King’s Landing, they’d needed a ward and I’d pulled back instead of being a leader and taking one for the team. Alex had stepped up and I’d been so grateful, so relieved.

Through everything I’d been non-committal. Doing just enough. We’d been doing the same thing in Westeros. Doing just enough that we weren’t causing waves and any waves we did cause we wanted to cancel out. But that wasn’t working.

Everett was a good leader because if something messy needed to be done, he was the first there. He bit the bullet so others wouldn’t. Taylor was a good leader because she put all her focus on her mission. She constantly prepared and she pushed through the hard parts to get things done.

I…was wishy-washy. 

“How does that help me?” Joffrey asked.

I couldn’t answer that, because deciding to commit didn’t give me a magical solution. I still think of the right thing to do that would make the best possible outcome. 

“You have to be prepared by not getting what you want out of this,” said Taylor. “My godly knowledge tells me they want you to become a ward of someone, but the _who_ is the sticking point. Who we’ll trust, against who’s loyal to the king.”

“That might be the best outcome we’ll be able to get if they don’t trust us,” said Everett. He sighed. “Who do we trust with this? Who wouldn’t sell Joffrey out? And if we don’t accept then what?”

Another bout of silence.

“We still have the day and maybe tomorrow morning,” said Taylor. “Let’s stop, think and then talk again, hash things out.”

Everett nodded.

Ava stood and stumbled. “Myrcella,” she said.

“I’ll help you, my lady,” said Leana. She looked at Taylor. “Am I allowed to visit Lord Blackwood?”

“If you want,” said Taylor. “You don’t have to ask for my permission. Just don’t tell him anything we said here.” She tapped her ear.

“I understand, m’lady,” Leana said and she wore a bright smile as she left. “Cinder, Ember, _come.”_

The dogs followed. 

My stomach grumbled. “We didn’t eat, did we?” I said.

“We still have food,” said Barden. He took my hand and led me to where we’d set up our kitchen.

£

_Commitment._

It was hard to figure out what I meant. I knew it would mean tough choices. It would mean opening myself up to doing stuff I was uncomfortable with, but I still wasn’t sure what that meant and how it would help us with Joffrey and Myrcella.

“There’s the matter of Tommen Waters’ burial,” said Lord Blackwood. I was a bit away but I could still hear the conversation. Joffrey stood next to Ava, his expression pinched. “We are unsure where his body should be sent.”

It was early evening and torches had been put up. We’d known this was coming because of Taylor’s bugs, but it didn’t make things easier. 

Ava put a hand on Joffrey’s shoulder.

“Tommen’s entire life was in King’s Landing,” Joffrey said. He took a breath and shrugged Ava’s hand away. He swallowed. “Send him there. Perhaps… _Robert_ will see his body and feel a measure of guilt for making this come to pass.”

“Do you…think that’s a good idea?” said Ava. “Using him for revenge?”

“This place is not his home,” said Joffrey. “Casterly Rock isn’t his home. If _he_ has any honour, Tommen will be granted a proper burial.”

Joffrey secluded himself after that and I found reason to walk around while Barden took a nap. I checked that people were okay, asked if any needed anything and when they said no I went outside for a jog. Taylor was already out running laps.

I joined her.

I could be faster than her, but that was with me using my power. Jogs were less about running speed and more about stamina, and she could have that in droves when she wanted to. We kept running, the sun finally hiding behind the horizon. It became harder, with me having to notch up my perception so I could focus on my footing; Taylor did the same thing but with bugs. We continued to run until she eventually stopped.

I did one more lap, then another for good measure, and finally stopped. There was a man out with a pitcher of water, when I stopped, Taylor was downing her second cup.

“You can leave us,” she said and the man nodded. She poured me a cup and I downed it without breath. “Any thought of what you want us to do?”

I shook my head and sighed. “Not really,” I said. “I think…the whole ward thing is a good idea, but I don’t know who the best candidate would be.”

“No one in King’s Landing?” she asked.

“Maybe Eddard Stark or Renly Baratheon?” I shrugged again. “Alex and Ava focused on people more than me. I focused on…Keeping things together? It seems so long ago now I can’t really remember most of what I did.”

I clenched my hand, feeling the dull throb.

 _I remember that bit though,_ I thought. _I remember first fighting Olly and trying to keep my shit together at the surprise of seeing another trigger. I remember threatening him not to start shit._

All that and I didn’t remember doing actually important shit.

“It’s…selfish,” said Taylor. “But I keep thinking about Oldstones.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “Everything is…sort of filtered through making it work. I want it to be a home for us and…”

“You’re thinking about giving them Joffrey?” I asked, my voice hard.

“No,” she said. She shook her head. “I want Joffrey protected. He doesn’t deserve this. But…he’s not as high up in my priorities as he should be. I…am afraid that, subconsciously, I may throw him under the bus.”

She turned to me and there was weight, as if she was waiting for something. I remembered a fight we’d had. She’d been spying on us with her bugs without our consent and we’d agreed that I’d advise her. Was she thinking about that now?

“I’ll watch out for you,” I said.

“Thank you,” she said. She took a breath. “Blackwood told Lord Tully that he’d be up to be Joffrey’s ward.”

“Yeah?”

Taylor nodded. “The Tullys are talking it over, but both don’t think it’s a good idea. They’re scared of the relationship between us and Blackwood. The father wants a relationship while the son wants to shift his weight around. Leana and Edmund aren’t helping things.”

“They’re a couple?”

“He’s courting her and she’s into it,” said Taylor. I caught a few bugs flying into her hair. Something flickered at the corner of my eye and I spotted a fly settling on my shoulder.

“You don’t trust him?”

“He’s doing it for power,” she said. “Unabashedly. He wants their kids to have Leana’s powers. I don’t think he loves her, but…I don’t think marrying for love is something that’s done here. At least not a majority of the time.”

“All about power plays,” I said and nodded. “Merwyn was the same way. He wasn’t out but he was willing to be if it meant getting with Alex. It’s another drop in a sea of screwed up.”

Taylor was quiet for a long time before she said, “Tell me about the king.”

I snorted. “He’s not good at his job,” I said. “He’s a drunk and he spends most of his time keeping himself that way. When shit hit the fan, he broke down and it was Eddard who took over, trying pull things together. He was insecure about his power. He did this thing where…I wasn’t drinking and he ordered me to do it to see if I would.”

“Did you?” Taylor asked.

I shook my head. “There’s a lot of shit connected to drinking and I don’t like it,” I said. She nodded. “He ordered me again and this time I followed it. On something else.”

“He’s insecure,” said Taylor.

“I think so.”

“So talking past all of this will be hard,” she said. “We have to give him something close to what he wants. Not his son dead, but maybe not to an enemy. What about Eddie?”

“Olive’s got you doing that too?” I said. Taylor shrugged. “Eddard’s…trying to make the place work from everything Alex told me. Last I know he’s getting information from Varys, a mastermind with spies in the walls of King’s Landing, whose feeding different people information.”

“All of this started with him and his family,” she said. “Everett had a thought, and it was compelling, that this might be the Starks and the king trying to get Lannister mines. Olivia says she doesn’t see it but I want a second opinion.”

I shook my head. “Unlikely. There are things that don’t make that fit. Eddard was trying figure why the last Hand of the King was killed, I think. It had to do with the Lannisters. He thought the queen and her brother killed him.”

“It hurts that we don’t have the full picture,” she said. “That we…Everett’s coming.”

We waited a short bit before he arrived, hands in his pockets.

“What are you guys talking about?” he said.

“Trying to get a clearer picture,” said Taylor.

He nodded. “I think we’re going to have to go to King’s Landing again,” he said. “Maybe bring Joffrey with us. There’s going to be a trial, right? So we can argue for him and his sister, that they don’t deserve this. Convince the king to have Joffrey and Myrcella stay with us. It feels like the only way we can have them.”

“I don’t think that’ll go right,” I said. “I don’t even think this trial will be fair. I don’t know everything, but with how people are talking about it, the murder might be false but they might get killed for cheating. The guy’s insecure and insecure people like to make themselves feel powerful by being dicks.”

“Then let’s do what Olive wanted,” said Taylor. “Let’s leverage our power to make things fair, let’s leverage our power to make sure shit like those villages being burnt doesn’t keep happening. We become a part of the process.”

“Doing that means we’re away from Oldstones,” said Everett. “It stalls our plans with the mines, which we haven’t even talked about. It will stall our incomes.”

I took a breath. “I…want to go back to King’s Landing,” I said. They looked at me. “I made a lot of mistakes and I think I can do better now. I know the place and I sort of know the people. I…can do better, make up for my mistakes.”

Everett nodded. “There’s still the mine and you’ll have to build up silk again,” he said. “We’ve already been gone for a month, and it’s a month to get back and another month to give us four more months where our people don’t starve.”

“I know the numbers,” said Taylor. “The mine can wait. It feels like it’ll have to with how screwed up the situation is. Maybe you should go to meet with Tywin. Talk to him.”

“Maybe I can convince him that the trial will be fair,” said Everett. “Get him to play ball.”

“Even if that’s true, he’ll still be losing his son and daughter,” I said. “His _first_ son. The things people say about this guy, I don’t think he’ll accept that without doing anything to fight back.”

“And they have a cape,” said Taylor.

“The king has a cape too,” I said.

“And a bigger army,” said Everett. “Maybe he’ll see that the only way to accept this is playing the hand he’s been dealt.”

“And what will we do with Joffrey in the meanwhile?” I asked.

“Have Bracken serve as ward,” said Taylor. “We don’t have the same relationship we have with Blackwood, but that works for us. The Tullys might not be as suspicious.”

Everett nodded. I nodded too.

“Let’s sleep on it, though,” said Everett. “We’ve been travelling all day. I get why Olive’s getting tired of this.”

“Yeah,” I said.

£

“Twyin’s made his move,” said Taylor the next morning, before even breakfast. “Apparently the crown has loans owed to the Lannisters and they think this is all some ploy so they don’t have to pay their debts.”

“What does that mean?” Barden asked.

“Reasonable doubt,” said Everett. “Tywin’s fighting back.”

“Today’s going to be hard,” I muttered.

We met again at lunch again but the senior Tully didn’t join us. Edmure sat at the lead, his eyes cold and his mouth pouty. Blackwood was as impassive as ever, grey eyes taking each of us in.

“You father won’t be joining us today?” Everett asked.

“My father has taken ill,” said Edmure. “He has seen fit to send me in his stead.”

“I hope he gets better,” said Everett and for a second Edmure’s expression softened.

“Thank you, my lord,” he said. “But we should get to business.” He took the piece of paper and held it up. He froze as a mass of bugs flew down, grabbing the piece of paper. He watched as the bugs flew over the table and handed the paper to Everett. “A message from Lord Tywin of House Lannister.”

Everett read it over and gave it to Taylor. She glanced at it and gave it back. I took it and read it over. I already knew what was in the message, but reading it gave me a better sense of how Tywin was posing things. This place’s money was still something I didn’t quite understand, but I knew that gold Dragons had the highest monetary value. The number written on the page was _large_ and there was the fact that Tywin claimed the crown hadn’t paid interest on the loans for a while.

It gave more credence to the fact that the crown might be doing this so they wouldn’t have to pay their debt. After all, Tywin _had_ to fight for his family and this could be used to destroy them, putting someone on the king’s side in charge of the place with all the gold.

 _Why does make so much sense?_ I thought. Because even with all I knew I could doubt. There were a lot of things that still didn’t make sense and they were tied to Petyr Baelish, the chief economist of this place.

I gave the letter to Joffrey.

“No doubt you have a sense of what this means,” said Edmure. “Even you who do not understand our customs.”

“Twyin’s fighting back,” Everett said with a sigh.

Edmure nodded. “He is challenging the reasons the king and the crown has seen fit to arrest his son and daughter. He is casting doubt to the king’s statement that Joffrey and his siblings are not his children. In a way, he is attempting to turn the lords of the Seven Kingdoms against the king.”

“What does this mean?” I asked. “For Joffrey and Myrcella?”

“We were planning on middle ground,” said Blackwood. “Joffrey and his sister were to become a ward to a family to that would protect them. But things are different now.”

“Different how?” asked Everett.

“The king will want Joffrey and Myrcella in King’s Landing if only so that they may be ransomed to ease the debt,” said Edmure. “I will send a raven to confirm my conclusion, but until a return raven arrives, all negotiations will be closed and Joffrey will not be leaving Riverrun.”

“You can’t keep us here,” said Taylor.

“No,” he said. “You have more might than even an army, but Oldstones is your weakness. You trade silk and honey with my people, through lands I protect. At my word I would see you barred from that trade, at my word I would see to it that you could no longer buy food or supplies.”

Taylor nodded. There were more bugs drifting around. I caught a worried expression flicker on Everett. He moved his hand so he grabbed hers under the table. She stopped.

“This…isn’t a good idea,” said Everett.

“Why?” said Edmure. “Does this disparity of power displease you? Especially when you flaunt your godly powers so readily? Threatening _me_ with their very presence?”

“You’d be willing to hurt our people to hurt us?” said Everett.

“Your smallfolk would not be hurt,” he said. “They would leave when food started to become scarce and settle elsewhere.”

“You’d be willing to take the chance of us going to the Westerlands?” said Taylor, there was a small tremor in her voice.

“Of the little I know of you, my lord and ladies,” he said. “I doubt you could hold the company of a man such as Tywin Lannister. I doubt you could break fast with a man who destroyed an _entire_ house for rebelling against him, a man without mercy and little honour. For you are heroes, my lord and ladies, and it is not the way of heroes to take the company of rabid lions.”

“Take solace in that Joffrey Waters might no longer face the gallows,” said Blackwood, as if that made things better. “In this way he will live and it will be with his grandfather.”

“We are willing to do this,” said Taylor.

I heightened my perception and though I couldn’t centre myself through breathing, I could recite a mantra: _She has a plan. She has a plan. She has a plan._

And through this I was able to school my features.

“If you would gift us a large tract of land,” she finished.

Edmure’s flickered with confusion. “I’m unclear, my lady, why I would,” he said.

“Because it keeps us friendly,” she said. “As it stands, my lord, we don’t like you. Which you might not care about for now, when all is well, but in the future you might require our assistance and we may be unwilling to give it. We are upset by this, sure, but we’re willing to disregard those feelings if we feel like we earned something.”

“Of which land do you speak?” he asked.

“It’s empty,” said Taylor. “It’s in a valley between hills north of Oldstones. We want its incomes when we’ve established there.”

“Is it close to the Green Fork?” he asked.

Taylor looked at Everett. He shook his head. “There’s only one village in the area, it’s small and its hidden from the place we want by hills.”

Edmure nodded. “I find this acceptable,” he said. “You will be gifted this land in the hopes of continued friendship between the House Tully and the gods of Oldstones.”

“Thank you, my lord,” said Taylor. Everett didn’t say anything. Joffrey seemed terrified. “Tecton, Romp and will be leaving with the people set for Oldstones.” Everett looked surprised but he didn’t say anything. “I hope they will have continued safety in Riverrun, all of them.”

No bugs joined her voice, there were no bugs that framed her and she didn’t try to puff up her chest, but it was still enough that Edmure tried his best to hide his fear, that his eyes darted from each of us never settling. But it didn’t work.

“They will, my lady,” he said, his voice shaking.

 _Threat received,_ I mentally translated. I mentally sighed. At least, if this was about ransom, it was unlikely that Joffrey and Myrcella were set for death.

 


End file.
